Lord Emperor - Dark Hunter
by Xavras
Summary: AU - starts in 2030. Not epilogue compliant. Harry has a plan to remove all remnants of the Death Eaters from the face of the earth. Why has he done this? What will he do once this is accomplished? Rating changed - as this story will have some dark scenes, if chapters include darker scenes they will include a warning... This will eventually include time travel. Grey!Harry
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This story is AU. It starts out in 2030. It is consistent with the books except for the Epilogue. It will begin to diverge radically as the story unfolds. It will be non-linear and will eventually have time-travel. I hope that you all enjoy it.**

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Spring 2030

The doors to the large room swung open. A tall man in light grey robes with red and gold trim strode into the chamber. "Lord Protector," he called out, "they are here. The final fugitives have been apprehended hiding in Muggle Switzerland. They have been brought here and they are awaiting your judgement in the side chamber."

The Lord Protector made no verbal acknowledgement of the announcement. He stood up from his chair, which was more of a throne in the middle of the large chamber lined with obsidian walls. The few magical lights around the hall caused an eerie glow as it reflected off of the shiny black walls. The Lord Protector moved slowly at first, stretching his long and powerful legs and arms as he strode up to the man who had interrupted his meditation. He looked at the tall man in front of him, with the dark hair, slightly rounded face which was marked with a scar across his right cheek. He gave the man the slightest of smiles.

"So, we are done then, as soon as this is finished," said the Lord Protector, without any emotion in his voice. "Very well, then I suppose that I will need to appear at the Ministry next week, as I had ordained." He walked towards the doors to the side chamber and called back to the other man. "I shouldn't be too long, Neville."

The Lord Protector opened the doors before him with a wave of his hand and then he stepped into the room. He eyed the occupants who were all seated in a row of chairs. The group included two young boys, two young men and a young woman, in addition to another gentleman who appeared to be the patriarch of the group. The six individuals stared at the man who entered. He was wearing dark robes and dragon hide boots. His long jet black hair was streaked with silver grey strands, as was the goatee he wore. The tall dark haired man just sneered at his captives.

"You do understand why you are all here today, do you not?" asked the lord who stood there, clearly a malevolent presence in front of them. The boys remained silent as they just stared at the man in front of them. The two young men in who appeared to be near thirty glared at their captor. The Lord Protector only glanced at the five younger people briefly, and then his eyes settled on the older man, with thin hair that was starting to turn grey. He was a little overweight, which surprised the lord as he took in the man's features.

"So, Theo," he spoke with venom, "years on the run seem to have not been too unkind to you. I would have thought that you would have had to keep in better shape than this."

"What would you know about this…" spat Theo, but he was cut off by a wandless silencing spell by the lord.

"Now, now," chided the Lord Protector, almost mockingly, "let's have none of your previous vitriol. I had to listen to too much of that all those years in school from you and your junior Death Eater friends. Draco was the most irritating and vocal of your little group, but I heard all of your comments." The lord paused for a moment as he walked over to stand in front of Theo. "You know, Theo, I am quite surprised. I am surprised that it was you and your family who were the last ones to be found and caught. I was sure that some other family would have eluded me much longer than you would. Avery and his family, I was sure they would have been harder to track down. Maybe it was simply because you just did a fairly good job of trying to remain quiet for the past ten years."

"So, you have us now," sneered the captive Theo, "are you going to hand us over to the Wizengamot? Send us to Azkaban?"

The Lord Protector laughed. "My, Mr. Nott, you have been on the run for a long time. I guess the news of our society and all of its changes has not reached you and your family while you have been away. Why is that? Could you not find a single issue of the Daily Prophet for over twenty years? Or have you been so far immersed in muggle culture that you never came across a single magical publication? It's a shame really, that you have to learn now, and from me." The Lord Protector paused and spun in a circle on his heel, waving his arms about. "This beautiful castle, this dark fortress, this is Azkaban!"

He waited as his words sunk in. Then he glared at Theodore Nott. "This is my home, it has been for years. We had not needed to have a prison since I became Lord Protector and the Ministry of Magic gave all power for being judge and jury for all crimes against the magical world. That is when I earned the title of 'Lord Protector'. However, you need not worry about the Wizengamot. It was disbanded years ago, in favour of a more egalitarian type of rule. You would probably hate to hear about it, so I will tell you anyway. The Ministry now has two governing bodies, a House of Lords and a House of Commons. We took the idea from Muggle England. Now that is a concept that must make your blood boil. It seemed to have a similar effect on many pure-blood families. Well, to be fair, the ones that survived the change are able to continue with their aristocratic life, as all the heads of house of the old families still have their positions they hold by family title, but that is only half of the legislative body for the ministry. The House of Commons, is the other and perhaps more powerful branch, where muggle-born and half bloods and other such magicals are elected to serve."

Theo was in shock, he had heard rumours that there had been sweeping changes brought about by the Lord Protector. He had heard only bits and pieces of the news, but it had been years since he had any contact with his former friends from school. He was aware that those families were being wiped out. As he thought about this, he wondered, silently, how could the man in front of him have become what he is. From the tales that his former allies had told him, this Lord Protector was as vicious as Voldemort had ever been. However, before he could say anything, the Lord Protector spoke again.

"So, here I am, at the end of my tenure as Lord Protector," smiled the man in front of Theo Nott. "You will have the privilege of watching your family, your grandchildren and then your sons and daughter-in-law in turn, die in front of you. Then you will suffer their same fate." He stood in front of the former Death Eater. He reached out and pushed the sleeve of Nott's left arm back, revealing the Dark Mark, the faded tattoo that had not been called on for over 30 years. "That mark, is the death sentence for you and your family. There is no need for a trial, because I have determined that it should be so."

The two youngest individuals were in tears as they realised that there was no way for them to survive this situation. In quick succession he cast bone breaking hexes at the chest of the two boys. Their screams were short lived as their chests caved in and their heart and lungs stopped. The two young men in their thirties, Theo Nott's sons, started hurling expletives at their captor, while the woman sobbed uncontrollably. With a slight wave, the Lord Protector silenced them all. He looked at the two men and then back at their father. "What? Are you surprised at what I have done? Have you never heard the stories from your father about the evil deeds that he and your grandfather had performed? Did he not brag and boast about how they would rape and torture non magicals? About how he and his friends terrorised the students at Hogwarts? Did he not regale you with the details of their exploits? Of how he and his friends raped and murdered my wife in front of me?"

There was silence in front of the Lord Protector and the three young adults sat still. "I thought that your father would have told those stories over and over again. Oh well. Perhaps he will share them with you when he joins you in hell!" With that he cast the bone breaker hexes at the two men, and then he cast another at the young woman. They all died as quickly as their children had.

Turning to look at Theodore Nott, the Lord Protector spat in his face. "Do not sit there and judge me for my actions, Theo. It was you, and your family, and your family's beliefs that allowed Tom Riddle to become Lord Voldemort. It was you, and your family, and those pure-blood supremacists who created me. And it has become your down fall. But now, it is finished." With those final words he cast a bone breaker curse at Theo Nott's head. Then the Lord Protector turned and walked out of the side chamber and entered his main hall. Neville Longbottom was waiting for him.

"Milord," he said quickly, "the side chamber will be cleaned immediately."

"Thank you Neville," he answered. Then he stopped in front of his long time friend, as he noted that there was still a look of concern on Neville's face. "What is it Neville? You seem worried." He paused as he waited for a response, but he received none from the head of the Longbottom family. "I assure you, my work is done as Lord Protector. They have all been rounded up finally."

Neville blinked slightly, holding back a tear at this statement. "I know milord," he replied tentatively. Then he continued, "However, there is a young woman who is here to see you, on what she claims is urgent business for you."

The Lord Protector raised an eyebrow. "Oh, how intriguing. Who might this young person be? Not another messenger from the Ministry? I told them I would be there next Tuesday and I would address both chambers at that time."

"She stated that she is from the Department of Mysteries, milord," said Neville, who was a little nervous as he remembered the last time he had personally been to that department at the Ministry of Magic, at the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts.

A brightness filled the eyes of the Lord Protector, "A mystery from the Department of Mysteries, this sounds like it could be fun."

"Very well, milord," answered Neville, "I will have her sent in shortly."

"Thank you Neville," replied the Lord Protector.

He then went and sat upon his throne, and leaned into the tall back of the magnificent chair. He meditated briefly, calming his core after the unpleasantness of dispatching the Nott family mere minutes before. Internally, he felt free. Free from decades of hurt and anger and frustration. He now had accomplished the remainder of the goals he placed before himself when he was young. The wizarding world had been transformed with a new government over twenty years ago and he had now eliminated any last survivor of the vestiges of Voldemort's Death Eaters. The number of Pure-Blood families that had been eradicated was quite large. Gringotts was working with the Ministry of Magic to see if there were any families that may have died out other than squibs, as some of the offspring of such outcast squibs may now be considered muggle-born. His concentration was interrupted as he heard the clicking of delicate boot heels on the polished stone floor. He looked up and saw the figure in the dark hooded robes of an Unspeakable approaching him.

As the figure neared the foot of his dais, he rose to greet her. The woman in front of him bowed her head as she spoke. "Milord, thank you for granting me an audience."

"The pleasure is mine," answered the Lord Protector, "but I am at a disadvantage, as I know not who you are or what your business is here with me."

She kept her head bowed, as she replied, "My apologies, milord, but I come with a message from the director of the Department of Mysteries. My name is Jasmine Greengrass." She continued to have her head bowed.

"Curious," stated the Lord Protector, "I would assume that you are a relation to either Astoria or Daphne. I knew of them both at school, a long time ago."

Jasmine pushed back her hood, revealing her long blonde hair, but she kept her head bowed and her eyes lidded. "Yes, my mother is Daphne Greengrass, and the current head of the Department of Mysteries."

"Look at me, child," spoke the Lord Protector with a gentleness that was almost surprising. "What message does your mother have for me?"

Jasmine hesitated as she prepared to answer the question, and still kept her gaze looking at the ground.

"But before you tell me of your message, perhaps you could explain to me how it is that you managed to enter my home, to slip past the wards. Perhaps your department has figured out a way to breach my wards, which have been tuned only for myself, and the very few I have given permission to enter."

He noted that she continued to gaze at the floor in front of her. Gently he reached out towards her, and took her chin in his hands and tilted her head up to look at him. Her eyelids were heavy, and then she finally looked up at him, looking into his eyes. The Lord Protector was shocked as he noted that the eyes staring back at him matched his own emerald green eyes. The shock of this caused him to take a step back, but he never averted his gaze from hers.

He quickly regained his composure as he straightened himself up. "I am sorry, Jasmine, but such a striking colour of green eyes is rather unusual."

Jasmine lowered he gaze momentarily and then looked back at the tall man in front of her. "I believe that they are a trait I inherited from my father."

There was an awkward moment of silence as the two individuals stared at each other. The silence was broken when Jasmine spoke again, "Lord Potter, I have come here at the request of my mother, as she would like to meet with you as she has important issues to discuss with you. She could not enter your home here based on the wards you have created."

"So, Lady Greengrass, head of the Department of Mysteries, would not send an owl," answered the man who was still in shock. "I have many questions then for both you and your mother. I knew who your mother was at school, but I have never really had any interaction with her. Of any kind," he added. "So, the mystery of Jasmine Greengrass looms larger. How did you pass through my wards? And how is that we share such a distinctive feature as our eye colour? And how has the wizarding world not made mention of some young woman who has eyes that match those of the Lord Protector?"

Jasmine was shifting on her feet, feeling uncomfortable. In her mind she was berating herself for this discomfort, as he had prepared herself for months for this confrontation with the man that she knew was her father. She looked up again at the tall man in front of her. "My mother, the Lady Greengrass, and head of the Department of Mysteries would like to meet with you so as to discuss a unique proposition as well as afford you the opportunity to ask of her any and all questions which you may have, considering the awkwardness of the situation which you currently find yourself in."

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Vanquisher of Voldemort, The Lord Protector of Magical Britain, was speechless. He was staring at a young and beautiful woman who was apparently the daughter of his classmate from Hogwarts, Daphne Greengrass, a woman whom he had only limited contact with because of her role as the head of the Department of Mysteries, but he never had any form of relationship with her, be it romantic or personal. And on top of that, this young woman was apparently also his daughter. The Lord Protector was at a loss for words.

"Should I tell her that you accept the meeting?" asked Jasmine.

"Why yes," stuttered Harry, "of course I accept." He thought quickly and then he asked the young woman, "When will this meeting happen? Where does she want to meet?"

Jasmine pulled out an envelope from within her robes and handed it to Lord Potter. As he grasped the envelope, she turned and started to walk away towards the entrance doors.

Harry called after her, "Jasmine, will you be joining us?" However, the young woman continued to walk away. He called out again, "Will you return to speak with me again?"

She did not turn around, but called out her reply as she continued to make her way to the exit and to the edge of the wards, "Please, just read the letter, and meet with my mother. That is all that I can say at this time."

Harry watched the tall and beautiful woman strode away. He staggered backwards and onto his throne. He was in shock as he looked at the envelope in front of him. After several minutes, Neville Longbottom entered the hall and found Harry sitting on his chair, staring at an unopened envelope. Neville looked at the top of the chair upon which Harry sat, at the coat of arms of the House of Potter and the House of Black. Harry looked up at Neville, and he was speechless. After a moment, Harry spoke and his voice cracked.

"Did you see her Neville? Did you see her eyes? She has my eyes, Neville," Harry was having a hard time dealing with the shock of the events of the previous encounter.

"Yes, Harry, I did," he acknowledged as he conjured a chair to sit across from Harry. "My friend, all I can say is it seems that this could not have been more shocking than if Prongs and Padfoot themselves returned to prank you. But I knew Lady Greengrass years ago. She is not the sort who would prank anyone, particularly the Lord Protector, the saviour of the wizarding world."

Harry looked at the envelope again as he held it gingerly in his hands.

"Are you going to read it?" asked Neville.

"Daphne Greengrass?" questioned Harry. "But why? I don't even know her. I never really did. She was just one of the Slytherins in the background. Granted, she never attacked me the way Malfoy and Parkinson and the others did. Yes, of course I knew who she was, any male with the slightest amount of testosterone in their system noticed Daphne Greengrass. And any male with the slightest amount of sense avoided angering the Ice Princess of Slytherin. Then after school she went to work for the Department of Mysteries, which seems to fit for someone who was already keeping everyone at arm's length or farther away. What the bloody hell is this all about?"

"That my friend," answered Neville, "is something that you will only find out by reading that letter, and meeting with the Lady Greengrass."

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**AN: I have changed the rating to M as obviously some scenes may be considered intense or violent. My lap top just died...so it may be a while before I can get the next chapter up. The original working title was Lord Emperor Potter, then I was going to change it to Lord Protector - Dark Hunter, but I forgot to change the "Emperor" line.**

**Chapters 2 - 6 were being edited...until the laptop crashed. Need to get the MacBook Pro to power up again... **


	2. Chapter 2 - Dinner with Neville

**AN: I am working on recreating the story tha is currently partially written on my laptop - the hard drive is fine, but the logic board is fried...oh well.**

**I was working on editing the story so that it would flow better with the current direction I plan to have it go in, so it is not as hard to recreate as it had been. There will be flashbacks in the form of penseive memories, and hopefully more of the mystery will slowly unravel. **

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Harry sat on his throne and pondered his situation. How could this woman have entered his home and passed through his wards? Why did she look so much like him? What does the head of the Department of Mysteries have to do with this? Those thoughts, and many more raced through his mind.

"Lord Potter," quietly called out Neville Longbottom, "I am sorry to interrupt you sir..."

Harry waved off Neville's concerned tone and look. "Neville, my good friend, you are all I have left. Well, you and your lovely family."

Neville blushed slightly. Then he spoke up again, "Harry, are you still planning on joining us for dinner this evening?"

"Of course I am Neville, you know I would never miss such a lovely gathering. Reassure Hannah that I will be there at half six as usual." Harry smiled as he saw his friend grin at this comment. "Yes, there are concerns that stem from the events of today, but perhaps you and Hannah could help me consider just what this all means. At least this business is finally done with damned Death Eaters."

Neville turned and was about to leave, when Harry called out to him again. "One more thing, Neville. If you could please inform the ministry that I will be arriving tomorrow at, let us say, one in the afternoon, and I will gladly address a joint session of the Wizengamot, with the House of Lords and the House of Commons. The reporters can wait outside, as usual, but they will get their stories soon enough."

"It will be done as you say," replied Neville. The Lord Longbottom turned to leave and a single tear fell down his cheek, as inwardly he sighed in relief as he said out loud to no one other than himself, "Thank God that this Death Eater hunt is finally over."

At 6:30 that evening, Harry Potter stepped through the floo and into Neville's home. Upon hearing the arrival of the expected guest, a pair of teenaged boys walked into the room to greet the man who was joining them for dinner.

"The Lord Emperor has arrived!" called out the taller of the two teens, who had dark but curly hair, and a round face that he had clearly inherited from his father.

"Hiya Uncle Harry!" called out the other young man, with lighter hair that was straighter, taking slightly more after his mother.

Harry grinned at the two teens and he reached out and hugged them both. As he was releasing them their father joined them in the room and admonished his older son. "I told you time and again, Frank, that your uncle Harry is not an Emperor."

Frank, the eldest son of Neville and Hannah, laughed as he turned to face his father, "Uncle Harry can come and go anywhere that he pleases, he can use any of the unforgivables in his quest to take down the remaining Death Eaters, and he created the current government system in the Ministry of Magic. That sure sounds like an Emperor or a king or some sort of royalty to me."

"Protector, Frank," chided Harry to his godson, "I am certainly not royalty, and I have no desire to rule anyone. I have only been working to protect our people, our friends and families from any future attacks and wars like your father and grandfather went through."

"So, Uncle Harry," asked the younger teen, "have you killed any more Death Eaters lately?"

"James!" admonished his mother who had walked into the room. Hannah leaned over to Harry and greeted him with a kiss on his cheek, and then she turned back to face her son. "We will not be discussing this unpleasantness any further. You know that we will not glorify the killing of anyone, no matter who they were."

"But everyone in school still talks about the Battle of Hogwarts," protested young James Longbottom. "There are stories and songs about Uncle Harry's defeat of Tom Riddle, there are even classes that teach the history of the wars."

Harry sighed as he recalled the events of the war and the atrocities that continued for years afterwards. "James, Frank," Harry spoke to them softly, "your mother is right. We should not be making light of any of these events, and especially not of the actions I have undertaken on behalf of all witches and wizards in our land. It was a necessary evil, or at least a deed that needed to be done."

Hannah gasped at Harry's words. "Was a deed that needed to be done? Does that mean you have finally finished it? You've really tracked down the last Death Eater?"

Harry nodded solemnly.

Neville then added with pride, "The Lord Protector apparently will be making his final appearance in front of both houses of the Wizengamot tomorrow. Just as he swore to do when he took on this role."

Hannah gave Harry a hug that reminded him of the ones he used to get from Hermione. He quickly forced that thought away from the front of his mind. "Yes, Hannah, I am done." He gently removed her arms from around him. He made an obvious sniffing motion and then he commented "But something smells absolutely wonderful, shouldn't we partake of this wonderful meal that you have been preparing?"

Hannah smiled and lightly hit him on the shoulder, "You know that the house elves have done all of the work."

"Whatever you insist, Lady Longbottom," added Harry with a wink. Then he turned to the two Longbottom teens. "So, why are you here tonight? Shouldn't you two be at school? Or has Hogwarts become suddenly more permissive about the students leaving the castle mid term?"

"It's Easter break," explained Frank, and he continued with a shake of his head, "how would you not know that?"

"I've been a little pre-occupied with my work of late," answered Harry with a sigh.

Soon the group was seated at the table and they all were enjoying a superbly cooked meal of a beef roast, with Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes and green beans. Harry spent the time questioning his godsons as to how they were doing in their studies at school, and what their favorite subjects were. Hannah noted that Harry seemed more relaxed in many ways then his usual demeanor when he joined them for the weekly get together. She presumed that his finally completing his goal of eliminating all of the Death Eaters and their relatives had removed a heavy burden from his heart. However, she could sense that there was still an unspoken concern or fear that he had deep inside, but she dared not speak of her concerns to Harry. Hannah contemplated asking her husband later after their guest had left if there was something else that might still be bothering Harry. As she paid only partial attention to her sons' tales of their exploits at Hogwarts, she wondered if Harry's hidden melancholy might just be due to the incredible losses of so many friends and loved ones, the every events that drove him to take on the task of the Lord Protector. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to a question that seemed to startle Harry, and the table was now surrounded in silence. Hannah's mind quickly replayed the question that Frank had asked.

"Just how did you track down all of those Death Eaters?"

Hannah's face became a mask of concern and worry. No one had ever asked Harry, the Lord Protector, just how he managed to track down all the Death Eaters. There were rumours of course, and she had heard many different explanations, but she chose to ignore every one of them.

Harry sat there in a stunned silence, contemplating the question before him. At the same time, Neville's face went pale.

"I went to speak with someone at the Department of Mysteries, after the Death Eaters had captured me that time," said Harry softly, trying to remember exactly what happened. His features tightened as he struggled to remember what exactly he did do. Harry looked over to his friend Neville, and he let out a little laugh that was disconcerting to those who were gathered around the dinner table. "I'm not sure why I am having a hard time remembering this, Nev, was it Daphne Greengrass who was working there that day I went to speak with someone on this issue of how to track the Death Eaters?"

Neville avoided looking Harry in the eyes as he responded dully, "I think that is who you told me you originally met with at that time."

"Odd that I would have trouble recalling that detail," commented Harry.

Hannah spoke up, "But that was right after they…" Hannah's voice trailed off as she realized what she was about to say, and she was worried about bringing up any painful memories for Harry.

Harry looked at her as his eyes watered slightly. "Yes, Hannah, it was shortly after they did that to Ginny. And they had already gotten to Hermione and Ron by that time."

The teenaged sons of Hannah and Neville were feeling uneasy as they had heard only limited stories of their father and Uncle Harry's close friends who were hunted down by the Death Eaters. While some people at Hogwarts would quietly complain about the cruelty of the Lord Protector and his lack of mercy and forgiveness, they had learned early that there was significant reasons that many of the magical public had never heard about why the fight against the Death Eaters had been taken to such an extreme by the one man who had already defeated the dark lord Voldemort.

Neville tried to change the subject, "Have you set a time to meet with Daphne after the request you received today?"

Hannah's eyebrows raised as she heard Neville's question.

Harry shook off his own confusion, and then answered his friend, "Let her know that I will meet with her directly after I address the Wizengamot and the House of Peers."

Harry then turned to Hannah, "Thank you once again for a lovely meal, however, I have an ever expanding agenda for tomorrow and a speech to prepare so I will need to return to my home for the evening."

Hannah smiled and let Harry know she understood. She stood up from the table and hugged him gently as he arose and then turned to head for the floo in the other room. Harry quickly exited from Longbottom Manor.

Hannah eyed her husband closely, "Obviously something else happened today, which neither of you spoke about."

Neville nodded silently in reply. Then he reminded his sons that they had homework they needed to get started on while they were home on break. After the teenagers left the room, Hannah turned back to her husband. "You know something more about this whole Department of Mysteries thing that Harry seems to be having trouble remembering, don't you." Her words were clearly a statement and not a question.

Neville closed his eyes slightly and after letting out a deep breath he simply replied, "I am bound by an oath to not say anything further at this time. Please, let it go for now, hopefully soon more will be understood. Harry will need to learn the truth that he has forgotten, and he will learn it soon."

Neville then turned and walked to his own private study to retreat to the solitude of his own memories.

* * *

Harry returned to his stark stone mansion on the island that used to be the home to the prison Azkaban. He strode into his private quarters and tossed his robes to the side as he threw himself onto his bed, holding his head as he tried to figure out just what was happening. Why could he not remember the details of going to the Department of Mysteries all of those years ago.

He concentrated on what he did remember from the day he approached Daphne Greengrass. There were images in his mind, but they seemed all cloudy. Finally, he became so frustrated he got up and walked over to his study and he pulled out his penseive. He doubted that what he was about to do would have any success, then he pointed the Elder Wand at the side of his head as he concentrated on pulling out any memories connected to his visiting the Department of Mysteries all of those years ago. Carefully he placed the silvery strands into the basin of clear liquid. The liquid started to cloud over and then he dove into the basin, much like he had done with Dumbledore all of those years ago in the former headmaster's office.

The world around him dissolved into swirls as he entered his own memory. He quickly recognized that he was in the Department of Mysteries. He was speaking to Croaker, the director, who was pointing towards an office door down at the end of the hall. Harry followed his younger self as he walked up to the door, knocked once and then let himself in.

Sitting at a desk reviewing various stacks of notes on the cluttered desk with a black board to her side with various complicated equations was none other than the blonde former Slytherin Ice Queen, Daphne Greengrass. Her blue eyes looked up at him with a definite cold glare, clearly not pleased at being interrupted. Upon recognizing the most famous wizard of her generation, she raised a delicate eyebrow and simply asked, "What do you want Potter?"

Harry watched as his younger self slid into a chair across from the woman and answer with an equal coldness in his voice, "Well, Daphne, your boss, Croaker, indicated that you would be the best candidate to help me with an urgent project."

Her face softened somewhat at what was possible praise for her abilities from her supervisor, and then she put down the quill that was in her hand. "What sort of project? And furthermore, what do I get out of it?"

The younger Harry looked at the equations on the blackboard and then at the drawings on some of the parchments on the desk in front of him. He noted the outline of a time turner, having seen one up close when he and Hermione were trying to rescue Sirius and Buckbeak back in 3rd year, and again he saw hundreds of them the night they broke into this very department at the end of his 5th year when a whole case of them were destroyed. "Working on time travel? Looks fascinating, perhaps I could give you a hand with that, after we're done with my projects," he added dryly.

Daphne scoffed at the remark. "Like you could help me," she chided. "I thought you could barely pass your classes and I know you never took ancient runes or arithmancy back in school, so what could you have to offer me?"

Harry shook his head, "Do not presume to know what I do or do not understand about certain subjects." Harry then changed the subject back to the project he needed her help with. "Even if I could not offer any help for you from a purely academic standpoint, which I probably could, but I can personally make sure that any research you are doing is more than adequately funded."

The blonde former Slytherin leaned back into her chair and folded her arms across her chest. "So, what do you need from me?"

Harry smirked and then pulled a coin out of his pocket and tossed it to her. She easily caught it with her right hand and began to inspect it. "It's just a cheap knock off of a galleon, if ever I've seen one. Looks like the leprechaun gold from the Quidditch World Cup from many years ago." She looked up at Harry, "But what is really special about this token?"

"Protean charm," he answered simply. "Originally it was cast by Hermione Granger, on this and many others like it."

She raised an eyebrow again, "So, that's how your DA communicated back in 5th year. It drove Draco and Umbridge crazy trying to figure out how you communicated with your fan club. Tracey figured Granger had developed something to do it, I gather she was right." Then she placed the token on the desk in front of her. "So, what about it?"

Harry grinned broadly, "What I need from you is actually rather simple. Can you develop a way that if I have one of these tokens that I can track down every other token that is linked to it, even if I don't have the original coin or the original witch who cast the charms?"

"Sounds simple enough, it may take me a week or so to make sure I have a way to magically trace each token, and then develop a tracking method. It would probably be set to track only one other coin at a time. Once that coin was found you could then track down another one." Daphne paused for a moment, then she continued, "this doesn't seem that important and it does not seem like a big deal. So what do you really need?"

"Always the sharp one, weren't you Greengrass," replied Harry with a smile. "While this does not seem very important, I need to prove that this can be done before I give you the details on what I need you to do next."

Daphne narrowed her eyes at the man in front of her, focusing intently on the emerald green orbs staring back at her. "You seem to have more cunning than I would have ever expected from the former Gryffindor golden boy."

"Truth be told," quipped Harry, "the sorting hat originally wanted to place my in Slytherin." Risking flirting with the young woman in front of him, despite his raw emotional feelings, he pressed on, "Of course, if it wasn't for Malfoy making me want to be as far away from anything to do with whatever house he was sorted into, then I might have been able to spend my years at Hogwarts much closer to you."

Daphne's Ice Princess mask quickly returned. "I'll try to get your answer within the week. How should I contact you when I'm done?"

"Just tell Croaker, and he'll have a way to contact me," said Harry as he stood up and walked out of the small office.

Harry's perception of the scene started to swirl as the memory now jumped forward. He found that he was watching his younger self once again walking towards the office door in the department of mysteries. He again knocked once and walked in without waiting for an answer. Once again he was greeted by a glare from the icy blue eyes of the blonde former Slytherin.

"You could be polite and wait for my response to your knocking," she stated firmly.

Harry gazed upwards in a fake attempt to appear pensive, and then he looked at her and simply replied, "No, I don't think so."

"What if I was busy doing something important when you just barged in?" she demanded.

Harry sat himself in the chair opposite her desk as he smirked back at her. "The only important thing that you could be working on right now is my little project." Daphne was clearly about to make a retort to his comment when he cut her off. "Right now I am funding all of your projects, so you can at least humor me with this." She started to visibly relax and he then continued. "I understand that you have made progress with the protean charm tracker."

Daphne smirked back at him. "Progress? I have been able to identify several of these coins here in this building, as I presume that Ernie MacMillan, currently working in the Improper Use of Magic Office was in the DA as he has one of the coins on him. He always has it with him, even all of these years after the war. Also, Michael Corner, who works on making potions for the DMLE, he also has one of these coins. I also tracked one down to a shop in Diagon Alley."

Harry cut her off at that point. "Thank you, Daphne, you have done most excellent work for me."

"I am sure there is a 'but' coming along here now," interrupted Daphne. She noted that Harry seemed to be a little emotional at this point and not filled with the previous bravado as when he first walked into her office today or the previous week.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but quickly turned away from her. After a moment of collecting himself he turned back to face the woman in front of him. "My apologies, Greengrass, but this is very important to me, and to all of the magical world. I think before we continue I need to know that I can trust you, that you can fully support me in what I need to do; that you will help me accomplish everything that I need to set out to do."

Daphne could sense the sincerity and the raw emotion in Harry's voice. She knew very little about the young man sitting across from her other than what she had read in the paper. Of course everyone knew how he ended the war by defeating Voldemort back in May of 1998, but there was so much more. Specifically the incredible stories of how Death Eaters were still active and causing terror. It was only last month that she read that Potter had somehow singlehandedly escaped from being captured by Death Eaters and how friends of his, even his fiancée, had been murdered. She calmly asked him what it was that he needed to do. "It is more than apparent that tracking down old coins that Granger made back when we were students is not what you need me for."

Harry rubbed his hand through his shaggy black hair that was already a couple of inches longer than he had ever worn it back when they were in school. "How about I tell you more about this over dinner tonight," he suggested.

Daphne thought for a minute, considering how forward the request was, but she could hear the heartfelt concern he had in his voice as he broached the subject. She realized that Harry Potter was not just a glory seeking prat as Malfoy used to claim, but a caring young man who had suffered repeatedly throughout his life.

"Sure, that sounds great," she answered with a genuine smile.

The memory dissolved suddenly and Harry once again saw his younger self walking down the hallway towards the office door, towards Greengrass' office. He really wanted to remember what happened that night at dinner, but this was not that memory. The time was apparently some time after the last memory, as Harry noted that his younger self had a short growth of a scruffy beard. He was also carrying some sort of canvas bag, large enough to carry a broom or Quidditch gear. The younger, scruffier Harry Potter again knocked once on the door to the office and entered immediately.

"What have I told you about knocking and entering?" demanded Daphne, but then her glare immediately dissolved into a broad grin.

"What? Am I really supposed to worry I am going to walk in on you with some bloke if I enter unannounced? You may have been the Ice Princess, but your hard exterior has already melted." He grinned back at her.

She looked at the bag hanging from his right hand. "What is that?" she asked, as a shiver ran through her as she started to figure out what he had brought to her."

Harry cast a charm across her desk to protect the parchments and stacks of folders she had been working on. Then he lifted the bag and dumped the contents out. An arm, a single left arm from some unfortunate person was unceremoniously dropped on top of her desk, or more specifically onto the shield protecting her desk.

Daphne shrieked in surprise. She stopped the bile from her stomach from arising all the way to her mouth. Covering her mouth to prevent any further possible reactions she screamed at Harry. "What the hell is that?" she demanded.

"That," said Harry simply but with clear pride in his voice, "that was the left arm of a Death Eater. He really won't be having any use for it anymore, as the rest of this Death Eater is no longer alive. But what is most important is the tattoo on the forearm."

Daphne forced herself to look at the arm and noted the tattoo. She hadn't seen the Dark Mark since Draco was showing off his to other students back in their sixth year at school. Daphne then thought she recognized the finely manicured fingernails on the hand. She looked up at Harry and gasped. "You killed Draco?"

"Actually, no, I didn't," said Harry calmly. "I had found him, and he was with several other Death Eaters at the time. They had heard what I said about hunting down Death Eaters several weeks ago at the Wizengamot meeting. When I walked in to the pub where this group was, Draco saw me and came to speak to me. The Death Eaters there thought Draco was betraying them and they killed him with an Avada Kedavra from behind. They then sent various curses around the pub causing the place to explode around us as they apparated away. I left with Draco's body, leaving it with the DMLE, but keeping the left arm for my own needs."

Daphne was pale as she listened to Harry's story.

"So, he has the Dark Mark. It is partially based on a protean charm. I saw Tom Riddle use the Dark Mark on his followers to summon them to his side. What I need is a way to track Death Eaters through the Dark Mark."

Daphne nodded silently, trying not to vomit as the sight of her former house mate's arm on her desk was more than a little disconcerting.

"Daphne," spoke Harry as reassuringly as he possibly could, "I will personally make sure that no one will ever know that you have helped me with this. And as I promised, as soon as this is done I will support you in finishing your other project."

Daphne looked over her shoulder at the canisters on the counter that contained the Sands of Time that had been released from the hundreds of destroyed time turners from the events of the attacks in the Department of Mysteries in 1996. She looked back at Harry and then down at the arm on her desk. "I can do this," she muttered quietly. She looked back up at Harry and gave him a half smile. "I can do this," she said with a little more conviction.

The image of the memory started to become foggy and Harry found himself back in his study.

"Bloody hell," was all he could manage to say. "Once I finish with my speech to the Ministry of Magic, Daphne is going to kill me when I see her, and I still don't remember anything beyond what I just saw." Harry let his head fall onto his desk, realizing that tomorrow would come all too soon.

* * *

**AN: I have fixed some formatting errors that my 13 yer old son just pointed out. And I corrected the references I made to the Wizengamot to match up with Chapter 1. **


	3. Chapter 3 - Meetings

**AN: I am working on reconstructing this story from memory. I do believe that the 5 previously written chapters (as well as additional scenes I had already written to be included in other chapters) cover even more detail for some of the events that occur in these first 3 chapters I have published. By now you may have realized that this story is non-linear, so additional detail may be added once I can recover the lost chapters off of my hard drive from my laptop. **

**AN2: Also, as I have stated on my profile page, I do not own any of the characters, but I am having fun playing in this world that JKR created, and I hope that you all enjoy my take on her world.**

**AN3: As always, reviews are welcomed. Constructive criticism is more useful than flaming or telling me that I am an idiot for including something in my story (as was a common response to Chapter 25 in my story Moving On - yes, I know, a shameless self promotion for my most popular story so far...). Once again, thanks for reading, and I hope that you enjoy this story...**

* * *

Harry awoke in the morning, having slept poorly as his dreams kept showing him the memories he had unlocked the night before. He had determined that the events must have occurred shortly after he had escaped from the Death Eaters that had ambushed him. Not just him, but Ginny as well. The memory of that ordeal was still painful more than twenty years later. Finally he remembered that Jasmine had handed him an envelope that reportedly contained a letter from Daphne Greengrass. At least he now realized he knew her as more than just the current head of the Department of Mysteries, and apparently he had a relationship with her.

Harry cursed quietly as he was trying to remember more than the few memories he managed to pull out of his own mind the night before. Harry dragged himself out of bed and into his study as he decided to try and work out as much as he could about the situation. Sitting down at his desk he pulled out the envelope from Daphne.

_Dear Harry,_

_I am sure that you must be wondering what is going on upon meeting Jasmine today. I do not have all of the answers to the questions you must be asking, but apparently we will be able to receive these answers together._

_I can tell you that I have raised Jasmine as my daughter since the day she was born. She has never known her father, and it is now clear that her father's identity had been obliviated from my mind from before she was born. Some event occurred earlier today that triggered a cascade of magical phenomena, including the unlocking of a few memories, and my receiving an anonymous letter explaining how you would need to be contacted._

_Right now I am struggling with old forgotten memories coming back into my mind, and all I know is that we really need to talk. _

_Perhaps even as important as to the mystery that surrounds Jasmine is the mystery of a special project I had been working on, apparently with your help, some twenty years ago. The project was a success, but the knowledge of this project has been long hidden, and only today has it become apparent to me the magnitude of this project._

_For your sake, for my sake, for Jasmine's sake, for sake of the magical world, we do need to meet. The sooner the better._

_Daphne Greengrass_

Harry read the letter over several times. He could only assume that the project she mentioned in the letter may very well be the same project that was alluded to in his newly recovered memories. What had she been working on, he wondered. He closed his eyes and tried to remember everything he saw in the memory, the notes on the desk, and the equations on the black board. Then he remembered the comments about the time turners. He reconsidered the equations on the board. He had studied arithmancy upon enrolling in Auror training, as he needed to understand how to research and identify curses and he also needed to learn curse and ward breaking. Harry's critical thinking and reasoning skills had been sharpened from his work as an Auror, and even more so over the twenty years he had been hunting down every last Death Eater. It was suddenly clear to him that Daphne must have been working on a means for time travel. Some how, she must have been successful.

Harry tossed the letter on his desk, and he was grateful that his meeting with the head of the Department of Mysteries was already arranged to happen after he addressed the joint houses that made up the current Wizengamot, he only wished that the meeting could happen sooner. As he contemplated this, he further reasoned that perhaps it would be best to meet with Daphne after his meeting was done and hopefully solve more of the mysteries that were surrounding the recent events.

Harry then pulled out a roll of parchment that he had previously prepared his speech for the Houses of Lords and Commons. He had actually written the majority of the speech several years ago, as he was planning for this day for quite some time. He had hoped that he would have been doing this long before this day, but as the number of Death Eaters dwindled, they actually did learn to make his job that much more difficult to complete.

Harry finished scanning his prepared speech, and then he crumpled up the parchment and tossed it away deciding that he would at least stick to the basic outline he had drafted, and just speak on the fly as it were.

He then went to go and prepare himself for the day that was ahead of him. He shaved his cheeks and trimmed his goatee, mentally telling himself that he was doing this more for Daphne than for the Wizengamot.

* * *

Neville arrived at the great hall of what was now the palace for the Lord Protector and what was once an infamous prison. As was his custom he walked up to the middle of the room and silently waited in front of the dais for his closest friend. As he waited patiently for the Lord Protector he let his eyes wander and examine the ceiling in the large room. He wondered how the room could actually have any warmth in it at all considering its location on a rocky island in the North Sea and no obvious source of heat. Neville's thoughts wandered as he considered how Harry had grown to be so much like the home he had created, having a hard and cold exterior which hid a warm interior that only a select few would ever be allowed to see.

"What are you thinking about?" questioned Harry as he surprised his friend and aide when he approached silently from behind.

Neville jumped slightly, "Bloody hell, would you stop sneaking up on me like that!"

"Sorry mate," came Harry's half hearted reply. Then he asked again, "so what had you so preoccupied that you couldn't hear my approach?"

Neville quickly dismissed the notion of telling Harry what his actual thoughts were, and he knew Harry well enough that he would not use legilemency on him, so he answered with a partial truth. "I was thinking about your home, this palace," as he again searched the dark ceiling with his eyes. Then he turned to face his friend once more, "and I wondered if you would continue to live here, now that your mission, your job, is coming to an end."

Harry turned his eyes to search the ceiling as Neville had done, and then he looked back at his friend and studied his eyes and his face more closely before he finally added, "It's hard to say, I am not sure just where things will lead after I address the Ministry."

Neville smiled, "It's more like that you have no idea where things will go after you meet with the Director of the Department of Mysteries."

Harry's gaze scrutinized Neville upon hearing his quip, and he wondered to himself just how much Neville really did know. Harry dismissed any further thoughts on that subject as he quickly reasoned that Neville was the one person whom Harry still trusted completely.

"Well my friend, let us be off then," said Harry as he led the way to his fireplace which had a direct connection to the Ministry.

* * *

Upon stepping out of the floo into the foyer of the Ministry of the Magic, Harry quickly glanced around and his eyes focused on the Fountain of Magical Brethren that had been reconstructed over a decade ago that depicted cooperation between the magical creatures with a witch, a wizard, a goblin, a centaur and a house-elf. Harry stared at the waters that splashed and danced around the statues when he attention was drawn to Neville who was standing next to him staring at the fountain.

"You know, Harry, it was because of you that the Ministry re-built this fountain," Neville said in a matter of fact tone. "After you had defeated Riddle, people were quick to want to tear down the monstrosity that was 'Magic is Might', but it was the hope you gave others of a magical world truly at peace that motivated others to see this rebuilt."

Harry did not respond as his mind drifted back to the last time he had come to the Ministry, before the fountain was rebuilt. That was the day he addressed the Wizengamot, and showed them his memories of just what had happened the previous month when he and Ginny had been captured by Death Eaters who had laid an ambush for him after bribing a Ministry official for the address of Potter Manor. While the images he shared within the halls of the Wizengamot allowed him to become the Lord Protector, the day that he and Ginny were captured is the day that everything changed for him.

* * *

_Harry and Ginny had just finished a quiet dinner together. There had been an increase in the number of attacks by the Death Eaters who had managed to escape capture by the Aurors and Hit Wizards. It had been less than two months since Ron had died at the hands of Death Eaters in the middle of Diagon Alley, right in front of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes joke shop that he was running with his brother George. He had allowed himself to be drawn outside by the taunting of a couple of masked wizards who had been boasting on their part in the murder of Hermione Granger the month before. The two Death Eater supporters knew of Ron's reputation for having a temper, and they were prepared for him to come out into the street looking for a fight. But Ron's death had been met with a mixture of public outcry at the violent act being perpetrated in the middle of the rebuilt magical center of commerce and the criticism that he deserved what happened to him for he came out of the store with his wand drawn and he even cast the first curse._

_Ginny was still emotionally raw from the event, and Harry had tried to help console her with a dinner out. The evening had been going better than even he had planned, as he had actually proposed to her at the restaurant. The scene had been captured by a photographer and they were sure that it would appear on the cover of the next edition of the Daily Prophet. Harry and Ginny were happy; they were determined to move on beyond the pain that was still all around them. They had promised to each other that they would not let the events of the war stand in the way of their happiness. They were giddy with excitement after committing themselves to each other and had apparated back to Potter Manor where Harry had a bottle of wine waiting for them to celebrate. _

_As they arrived on the front lawn of the manor, Harry could immediately sense that something was wrong. The wards were completely wrong. Harry quickly could feel the presence of anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards going up around them. Then there was the explosion as the front of his house was engulfed in flames. Harry reflexively jumped to cover Ginny and protect her from the effects of the blast. That was when he felt the stunners hit them from multiple sides. And then everything went black._

* * *

Neville nudged Harry slightly. "Hey, are you okay there mate?" he asked as he noted the far off look on his friend's face.

Harry shuddered slightly as he recalled that night and he brushed a tear off of his cheek and then he turned to face Neville. "I'll be fine, really," he said softly. Then, he turned allowing his cloak to billow in as impressive a display as any Snape had done at Hogwarts and the two men headed towards the hall where the join session for the House of Lords and House of Commons would take place.

* * *

The members of the House of Lords seemed more irritated than the House of Commons. The witches and wizards that made up the Wizengamot were not happy to be called in for a joint session on last minute notice; especially when the Minster for Magic had not given them very much information to go on for the upcoming meeting. Justin Finch-Fletchley was not the first muggleborn to be elected Minister for Magic, and most of the members of the House of Lords had found him more tolerable than any previous muggleborn minister. The House of Commons found him about as effective as any of the previous ministers.

The Minister for Magic called the session to order with the banging of a magical gavel. Justin's voice carried easily throughout the hall. "My esteemed colleagues here in the Wizengamot, I welcome you all to this historic session to bring together the House of Lords with the House of Commons. About twenty years ago, when the current system for the Wizengamot was formed, the august body agreed to give special rights and powers to one individual, the Lord Protector for Magical Britain. The Lord Protector made an oath at that time that he would only use those rights and powers for one purpose, and upon completion of that mission, he would return to this body, and proclaim his work to be completed and relinquish the rights and powers that he has been granted. While I was a newly elected representative in the House of Commons on that day, I still remember the reaction of our fellow witches and wizards upon hearing the news of the appointing Lord Harry James Potter as the Lord Protector. Some decried him as a despot, working to become the next Dark Lord. Some praised him for being the new Leader of the Light, preparing to lead us all throughout this glorious new century. Some feared that he would abuse his powers for revenge while others hoped for peace to finally be achieved in our world. Whatever a fears and hopes were at that time no longer matters on this day. For on this day, we have before us, the Lord Protector of Magical Britain. I present to you all, the Lord Protector."

Justin Finch-Fletchley sat down into his seat as Harry Potter stepped out from the alcove near the entrance to the hall and strode purposefully to the rostrum that was erected at the front of the hall. The chamber was as quiet as the green on the 18th hole at when a player would be preparing to putt for birdie and the British Open Championship, even if none of the pure-blooded wizards would have ever known anything about golf or the British Open.

Harry's dark robes and flowing dark hair were set off by the contrast of his green eyes that nearly glowed with the eerie light of the avada kedavra curse. Many had not seen Harry Potter much if at all during the years since he vowed to hunt down every last Death Eater and their families. The goatee and the pierced ear and the hair down to his shoulders definitely startled many of those in the hall, but the eyes were enough to assure everyone that the man standing before them was the Boy-Who-Lived, the Vanquisher-Of-Voldemort, the Lord Protector.

There were a few scattered murmurings as Harry stood up behind the lectern, which all ceased as he grasped the sides of the small desk in front of him as he began to speak.

"My friends, my fellow wizards and witches, I come before you today to just as I promised you all that I would some twenty years ago. The last time I stood before the House of Lords and the House of Commons, I made a promise to all of you, or at least to your predecessors, that I would find every Death Eater and that I would remove them and any progeny from the face of this earth. To do so, the Wizengamot granted me special authority to do whatever I needed to do in order to complete this task. Many of you were not present that day as I showed clearly to those who were present just what kind of creatures we were dealing with. The memories of my experiences with the Death Eaters that I revealed to this governing body at that time was enough for that body to unanimously grant me the unprecedented privileges to carry out the task that I had chosen to set before me. Some day your children or your children's children may well wonder why there was once a Lord Protector, or why you allowed him to do the unspeakable things that he did. I merely pray that the only answer that any of them will need will be that you and they can know peace, a peace unlike anything we have ever known. A peace without the fear of bigoted wizards or witches threatening to cut down you or your loved ones. A peace that will last. A peace that is sure. A peace for all witches and wizards. For that is the news that I bring to you all today. My task as the Lord Protector is complete."

There were more murmurings throughout the hall. Harry could hear most of the words being spoken, as his hearing was honed so that he could pick out individual conversations in a crowd, a skill which served him well as the Lord Protector. After a minute, he spoke loudly once more, as he stood now in front of the podium, holding his wand in his right hand, pointing it towards the ceiling of the hall.

"I, Harry James Potter, Lord Protector of Magical Britain, do hereby renounce the title of Lord Protector; renounce the responsibilities and authority of the position of Lord Protector. I do this because I have completed the stated mission of the Lord Protector. As of yesterday at 5 in the afternoon, there are no longer any surviving Death Eaters, marked followers of Voldemort, or any of their families. My work here as the Lord Protector is done. So mote it be!"

Harry then cast a simple lumos spell, and the tip of his wand glowed so brightly as to cause everyone in the hall to shield their eyes. Before anyone could recover from the glare, Harry had turned on his heel and he had strode towards the doors to the chamber and exited.

* * *

The entrance to the Department of Mysteries was not hard for Harry to find, as he had been there many times over the years. Add to the fact that most of the ministry employees were either in attendance in the Wizengamot hall or waiting outside to hear the reports of the Lord Protector's speech, the halls were essentially empty. As Harry walked into the main hall of the Department of Mysteries he paused for a moment. He looked to his right and up the hall where he had gone in his memories to visit Daphne in her office. However, that was twenty years ago, and she was now the head of the entire department, so he realized that her office would probably be the same one where he used to go meet with Croaker. Turning to his left he approached the office and let himself into the reception area. Harry approached the desk where a young witch who appeared to be in her mid-thirties was sitting.

The young woman looked up and gasped when she saw who had entered, "Lord Protector! I didn't expect you so soon! The director is expecting you, however."

Harry smiled at her and calmly stated, "Just Harry will be fine, I am in all actuality no longer the Lord Protector, I just stepped down from that position, and truth be told, I really do kind of hate titles."

"Then how should I address you, Lord Potter?" The question came from Harry's left. He looked up to see a woman who looked amazingly so much like he remembered from the memories he had just watched the night before. Her hair had hardly changed in color or in style. Her figure, or what he could tell of it from the robes she was wearing, appeared as if had changed minimally.

Harry smiled awkwardly at the director. "Lady Greengrass," he said politely, "or should I call you Director Greengrass? Or we can dispense with the formalities and leave it at Harry and Daphne."

Harry noted a smile start to appear on her lips which she quickly covered with the stern mask he remembered had earned her the nickname of the Ice Queen of Slytherin all of those years ago at school.

"Well then, Harry, we do have some important issues to discuss," she then turned to her receptionist. "Elizabeth, I will be busy for the remainder of the day, and I will not tolerate any interruptions this afternoon, so, if you would be so kind as to make sure that we are not disturbed then I would be ever so appreciative." With a flash of a smile Daphne then turned and walked back into her office, pausing only at her door to make sure that Harry was till following her.

Harry stepped into the office and immediately looked around to inspect the décor. It had changed somewhat since the times that he met with Croaker all of those years ago, and he felt that the green and silver motif suited Daphne quite well. He walked over to a small table in the corner that had two cushioned chairs on either side, and he sat himself down and waited for Daphne to join him. She walked across the office and sat down facing him, and the two sat there in silence for a minute.

The silence was broken as Daphne finally muttered, "Dammit all." She startled Harry slightly as she quickly stood up, leaned across the table, and pulled Harry to her and gave him a searing kiss on his lips.

Harry was surprised by her action, and then he briefly enjoyed the kiss. The pleasure he received from the kiss was brief because after only a few moments he suddenly experienced incredible pain as he had the feeling of a bomb going off in his mind. His eyes closed tightly as images flashed across his thoughts. Images of him and Daphne together on a date twenty years ago. Images of the two of them working together on various projects. Images of the two of them meeting with Neville. Images of Neville casting an intricate spell on Harry and on Daphne using the Elder Wand. Memories that had long been forgotten, that had been hidden away came flooding into the forefront of his mind. The pain started to ease up and his eyelids fluttered open.

Harry was holding his head in his hands trying to recover from the pain of a headache that would make a subarachnoid bleed feel like a walk in the park.

Harry was trying to sort out these newly discovered memories. The time he had spent with Daphne, their budding relationship as they worked together. The emotions that accompanied these memories were confusing him. The experience of the sudden onslaught of recovered memories made him feel as though his thoughts were drowning in an ocean of dreams. After several minutes of trying to sort through his new memories and deep breathing exercises to help the pain that accompanied everything subside, he finally was able to look up at Daphne. He felt the love he had once had for the azure blue eyes. She looked to him as though she had aged only a few years over the past twenty that they had been apart.

Taking a final deep breath he prepared to speak, noting the anxiety that was etched into Daphne's face.

"You knew? You remembered all of this?" he said between gasps as he tried to process all of his recovered thoughts. "How long have you known?"

His questions hung in the air unanswered as he noted that Daphne was crying.

Harry asked her one more question, "Why?"


	4. Chapter 4 - Memories return

**AN: And now we have chapter 4. It is exciting to see so many followers and favorites, but I am surprised by getting so few reviews so far. I'm not sure what that means about this story. Well, here we go with the next installment.**

* * *

Neville Longbottom found himself pacing in the hallways of the Ministry of Magic. He easily ignored the chaos that was surrounding him and everyone in the building after the announcement that the Lord Protector had stepped down from his position. Neville knew that Harry had gone to meet with Daphne, and he was silently praying that neither one of them would be out to kill him after they had finished talking.

"Lord Longbottom," called out a voice that interrupted Neville from his solitary musings.

Neville looked up and saw a reporter from the Daily Prophet holding a pad of paper and a quill. Neville was not exactly pleased to be face to face with this young man.

"Lord Longbottom," continued the reporter, "could you answer some questions for me?" The young man did not wait for a response. "Did you know that the Lord Protector was going to step down? Who was the last Death Eater to be eliminated? What plans does Lord Potter have now that he has finished his mission?"

Neville surprised himself as he relied on his pure-blood heritage and sneered at the reporter in front of him. Using as dismissive a tone as possible he replied tersely, "I have no comments for you or for your readers. The Lord Potter is a very private man, and he would like to be left alone. You should be able to get a copy of the official transcript of his words to the Wizengamot from the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. It is not my place to speak for Lord Potter."

The reporter was about to try and question Neville once more, but he was quickly cut off by the impatient lord. "Do you need directions to the office for the Senior Undersecretary? If you do, I am sure that someone can help you if you go to security." Neville glared once more at the reporter and turned to head somewhere else in the building. After the reporter left, Neville clenched his hands into fists as he tried to calm himself down for he could hardly believe that he had pulled off acting like a pure-blooded pompous ass. Yet he still didn't dare head down to the Department of Mysteries, particularly if he might be followed by any other overzealous reporters or gossip hounds.

* * *

The senior Auror students were waiting in their lecture hall as none of their instructors had arrived. The faculty for the DMLE Academy had left them a message about an important meeting that was happening at the Ministry of Magic. The students were all discussing among themselves what the meeting was about that would call away all of the instructors leaving them with only a brief message and an assignment to work on presentations for the next week. All of the students were voicing their own theories about what could be going on. All but one student that is, as Jasmine Greengrass was sitting off by herself.

The beautiful young woman was known to often be a loner when she was in school at Hogwarts. Her classmates at this time did not think too much about that as she had kept herself apart throughout their years in school. Jasmine quickly learned that keeping herself aloof from those around her protected her from the unwanted advances from young boys, just as her mother had done before; but it also had the additional benefit of keeping away the questions that she often faced about who her father was. She had never known her father until the day before when she called to her mother's office. She was then instructed to deliver an envelope with a cryptic message to the Lord Protector, at his home no less. Jasmine still had plenty of questions for both her mother and her now identified father. She was trying to sort out her feelings towards both of them. She felt betrayed and abandoned to grow up with out a father. She never doubted her mother's love for her, but there was always this feeling growing up that something was missing. And now she just had to wait even longer, as her mother had told her that there were still some important steps that needed to take place before their family could truly be reunited. Part of her wanted to scream and pull at her hair as she was waiting to get her questions answered, but sitting here in the classroom there was no way she would let her guard down in front of her fellow students. Her fellow students, she thought to herself, as she never really liked the Defense classes while she was at Hogwarts, but she felt drawn to becoming an Auror. She wondered if it might have anything to do with who her father was, even if she never knew him until yesterday.

But for now, all she wanted was for the message to come from her mother letting her know she could go meet with her father. And the waiting was definitely not a pleasant experience for her.

* * *

Daphne's eyes were filled with tears. She had even more memories flood back after the kiss she shared with Harry, and he was now asking her 'why?' For a moment she was worried that his memories had not returned as completely as hers had at this point.

"Don't you remember why?" she asked in a whisper, fearing to hear is answer.

Harry stood up and placed his hands over his face trying to hold the pain and the emotions in that had suddenly filled his mind. Then he rubbed his eyes slightly and he just looked at Daphne. She noted compassion and longing in his eyes.

"Yes," he whispered back to her, his voice raw from the emotions he was experiencing. "Yes, I remember everything." He stared at her, taking in her beauty, and then after a few minutes of staring he simply stated, "I have missed you so much Daphne. I had no idea it was going to take this long to finish it. I am so sorry."

Daphne stepped up to him, kissed him quickly on the lips, wiped some tears off of his cheek and brushed his long hair out of his face and then hugged him. "Harry, dear, we had no idea how long it would take for you to finish your mission. But my project has been kept safe," she added reassuringly. "That was what you wanted, what we both wanted," she continued.

Harry hugged her slightly and then he looked into her eyes. "I take it that it is finished then?"

"Of course it is," she answered, leaning her head against his chest. "I finished it before Jasmine was even born."

"Jasmine," he spoke softly, "does she hate me for not being there for her? Will she hate me for everything I have done?"

Daphne didn't let go of Harry. "There is only one way to find out what she feels," she paused for a moment, and then she added, "and I think she will need to be told everything."

Harry gently pushed Daphne away to her hold her at arm's length and look into her deep blue eyes. "Everything? About why I did this? Why we did this," he corrected himself.

"She deserves to know the truth," commented Daphne.

Harry smiled at her and pulled her back into a tight hug. "So, will you send for her now, or do we meet up with her later?"

Daphne looked up at Harry as she considered his question. "We could send for her now, but where should we meet her? Having her come here to the ministry would probably not be best. So, do I tell her to go to your place or mine?"

"If by my place, you mean the fortress that was once Azkaban? I am never going back there again," Harry stated firmly and bitterly. "That place has served its purpose. There will be nothing but nightmares left on that island. If there were dementors left at all, they could feast off the memories of the horrors that have happened there ever since it ceased to be a prison. I was brought there once by the Runcorn. They chose the place where they would all meet their end. Now that I have completed that, I will never go back."

Daphne's eyes teared up once again. "So, where will you go?"

"If I am not welcome at Greengrass Manor," replied Harry, "then I will have to look into what properties I have that can be reopened."

Daphne playfully slapped his shoulder, "You know you are always welcome at Greengrass Manor." She looked up at him and kissed him once more.

After breaking off the kiss, Harry suggested that they tell Jasmine to meet them there. Then he added, "Daphne, my love, I think we really need to consider having Neville over. We need to thank him for all that he has done. And he kept it all secret even from Hannah and their boys."

Daphne frowned slightly at Harry's comments. "Harry, we just found our memories, we have found each other after twenty years. I think we need time together, as a family. I know Neville is important to you, well, to us actually. Perhaps we should wait a day or two before inviting them over."

Harry nodded in agreement, "You have a valid point. So, why don't you send a message to Jasmine, and then we'll plan to meet at Greengrass Manor for supper. IN the meantime, I'll try to escape from all of the chaos I have created and try and get some answers from the goblins about the condition of my estate. It's been years since I even considered going to one of my properties."

Daphne smirked at him. "This is the department of mysteries and I am the head, I think we can arrange for you to avoid the crowds upstairs."

* * *

Harry stepped through the floo from Department of Mysteries into Daphne's home. He took a brief look around and then grabbed some floo powder and tossed it in to the flames as he called out 'Diagon Alley' as he stepped back into the floo. Harry then stumbled out into the Leaky Cauldron, and brushed himself off as he made his way out the back. As it was mid afternoon there were few patrons in the well known magical pub and he quickly exited before anyone of the guests noted who had just passed trough. Harry let out a brief sigh of relief as he had managed to make the first part of his journey without any difficulty, and he hoped he could make it the short walk down the alley to Gringotts Bank before too many people recognized him. With his brief speech at the Ministry only a short time ago, he knew that word would be getting out and people would be talking about it. He figured that the Daily Prophet would probably print a special edition this evening to let everyone know what happened. Harry continued to feel grateful as he passed only a few people on his way to the steps that led into the bank, and he had fewer than the usual number of gawkers as he made his way along.

Harry walked up to the first open teller's desk, and the goblin curtly demanded "State your business here today" without looking up from the ledger in front of him.

Harry simply stated "I require a meeting with Ragnok,' and he awaited for the response from the teller and he was not disappointed.

The goblin hissed back, "You may well require a meeting with the bank's director, but even the Minister for Magic needs to schedule an appointment." Then the goblin looked up at who he was addressing as he was ready to speak in a more condescending tone. The goblin let out a muffled gasp. "My apologies, Lord Protector, I will notify the Director at once." The short creature hopped off of his stool and ambled as quickly as he could to the area behind the teller's desk. Harry could just make out the words as the teller explained to the floor manager just who had walked into the bank and who they were requesting to meet. Harry could see the floor manager strain his neck to look around the teller to confirm the bank customer's identity. Harry smiled cheekily and waved slightly, figuring that would be even more disconcerting to the goblins. The floor manager started to raise his hand to wave back and then sneered and slammed his hand down on his desk. He spoke quickly in gobbledygook to the teller and then he himself ambled as quickly as his short legs could carry him down a back hallway.

Meanwhile the teller returned to Harry and apologized for the delay. "I am sure that Director Ragnok will be more than happy to see you, Lord Protector."

Harry just smiled back and then added, "By the way, it is just Lord Potter now, as I no longer have the title of Lord Protector. I'm sure the next edition of the Daily Prophet will try to fill in any details for you."

The goblin nodded slightly and turned to lead the way to the director's office.

Upon entering the director's office, an older goblin with little hair but bright eyes and a vicious smile stood up from behind his desk and greeted Harry brightly.

"Lord Potter," said the goblin with a grin, "it is good to see you again. It has been too long since we have met."

Harry smiled in return, "It is good to see you again, my friend."

"What can I do for you today? This visit is most unexpected, but then considering your announcement to your own Ministry of Magic today is probably what has precipitated this encounter which I surmise is more than a mere social call." The goblin's grin did not waiver, which to someone not used to dealing with their race could be quite disconcerting.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "So, the news of my announcement travels quite fast it seems."

Ragnok laughed slightly and then he replied, "News that is truly noteworthy has a way of finding its way to my ears."

Harry laughed in return. "Well, my friend, there is a matter which I need some help with. Actually, some real estate issues. The goblins have ensured the safety and secrecy of the few Potter land holdings which survived the first wizarding war with the half-blood Riddle."

Ragnok interrupted Harry, "Excuse me, but to clarify we have managed the Potter and the Black family holdings."

Harry smiled, "Of course you have, my friend. And you have personally watched over my other financial holdings, and for all of that I am most appreciative. However, at this time I have a property which I no longer have any use of, and I would rather never see again."

Ragnok nodded in understanding, "Your little island fortress, I presume is the property of which you speak."

Harry nodded his agreement. "Most perceptive my friend; however I am not sure who would be in the market for such a God forsaken rock. But then again, there may be some who are interested in the ruins for various reasons. Perhaps if there are any dementors roaming the earth they may enjoy returning to the place they once guarded and consider it a vacation home. So many horrific memories abound there that they could truly relish. Or perhaps the goblins could find some useful minerals to mine from deep within the rocks."

Ragnok frowned, "It would be a most difficult property to sell, but I will look into this for you, my friend. Now, did you have a specific concern about any of your other properties?"

"Actually, I am looking for a property that I could easily move into soon, that is not easily located and is in a comfortable location, such as one of the manor houses, or perhaps a cottage," answered Harry.

Ragnok had a pensive look for a goblin as he considered Harry's request. "There may be a few options; I should be able to give you further recommendations within a few days, if that would meet your needs."

Harry indicated that it would be fine, and then he left Ragnok with a final comment. "I may have some more unusual requests for you in a few days, so if we could plan for a more formal and scheduled meeting that would be most helpful."

The two quickly settled on a date for the following week when Harry would return to see what options Ragnok had for opening up properties for him and Harry would elaborate on his vague request. The director of the goblin bank was intrigued by this request from Lord Potter as he was often coming up with unusual plans or investment strategies. Ever since the young Lord had worked on reparations to Gringotts for the issue of the break in to the LeStrange vault and the resulting damages including the loss of a certain reptilian guardian, Ragnok had found dealings with this human to be entertaining and refreshing compared to the more typical encounters with other wizards. "This should continue to be entertaining and profitable," thought the director as he reviewed the listing of properties that the Lord Potter had at his disposal.

* * *

Harry strolled down Diagon Alley window shopping as he tried to find something to offer as a gift to Jasmine, as he had missed her first twenty birthdays. He wondered how their lives were similar in that he never really knew his father, or his mother for that matter as he was growing up. While he eventually learned that his parents died trying to save him, and that it was his mother's love for him that truly saved him and helped him eventually to defeat the darkest wizard of the past fifty years or more, his daughter had grown up without any knowledge of her father. Even her mother had nothing she could tell Jasmine about her father as she had no memories of what had happened. Harry wondered if she grew up hating the unidentified man who had seemingly abandoned her and her mother. Harry considered that he had in fact abandoned both Jasmine and Daphne. He tried to convince himself that he had good reasons for what he did, that he did it to protect them, that he did it out of love for them. But he wondered if his thoughts on the subject would really matter to a young woman who grew up in a world that had no father. Daphne seemed to fully understand and accept what happened. At first Harry was surprised by her reactions, but as it became clear as their memories were returned, Daphne was involved in making the decision to do exactly what they did. To hide the knowledge that Harry and Daphne ever had a relationship, to hide the knowledge that Harry had a child, from all of the involved parties.

Harry then considered that there was one person who knew the truth for the past twenty years. The one person who always was looking out for Harry. The one person who Harry trusted implicitly. Neville Longbottom had come a long way from the meek and mild first year who many thought of as being barely anything more than a squib. Harry would eventually have to find a way to repay Neville for his faithfulness and his trust. But not today, for now he was still trying to figure out what to get for Jasmine.

As he wandered throughout Diagnon Alley, ignoring those who were pointing and whispering as he walked by, Harry realized that he could not just get something that looked like he was trying to buy her affection. He even realized that he had no idea what sort of things she liked. Did she like Quidditch? Did she like muggle sports? Did she like flowers or chocolate or bunnies or unicorns? Did she like to dress up and go out with friends? Did she have friends? Harry quickly felt that he was becoming overwhelmed as he thought about all of these unanswered questions.

He walked past a magical jewelry store, and he briefly considered a necklace or a bracelet. But again, as he didn't know her, any such idea seemed like it would be grossly inappropriate. Harry continued down the alley, quickly passing Weasley Wizard Wheezes, which looked to be as successful as ever, and again woefully inappropriate for a gift for a twenty year old daughter whom he had never truly met.

As he passed by Quality Quidditch Supplies he briefly eyed the current selection of brooms. He remembered fondly the times he used to browse through the store when he was in school and how he would dream about playing Quidditch and having a fancy broom. He knew he could afford any broom he wanted now, but he realized that he had no real need for a broom at this time. And he really didn't think buying a broom would be the right thing to do, as it seemed a little too much like a muggle parent spoiling a teenager with a new car.

Harry noticed Flourish and Blotts, and he decided he had no idea what kind of books she would like to read. He even realized he had no idea if she even liked to read. Staring at the bookstore reminded him of his best friend from Hogwarts, Hermione, and how she loved books. Harry continued on down Diagon Alley, and he came across Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Harry considered getting her something from there, but of course he had no idea what her size would be, or what kind of styles she liked. Besides, he chided himself, clothing also seemed like it would be a little too personal for a daughter who was now twenty years old and he never even knew existed until the day before. So Harry continued down the street and the small crowds who were out and about doing their shopping continued to point and stare and to whisper as he passed by. Harry overheard one witch say to another, "Do you remember all those years ago when he saved us from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? What a nice young man to spend all of these years working to keep us all safe."

Harry paused when he heard these words, as he often wondered just what the average witch or wizard really thought about him. Did they hate him for his violent methods to eliminate the Death Eaters? Did they hate him for killing people who might have been friends or loved ones? Did they view him as a hero for guaranteeing peace over the past twenty years? Did they fear him for what he had been doing? Did they think he would forcibly take over the Ministry? Did they even remember that his parents died saving him when he was still an infant? Did they remember the true stories of what he went through in his fight against Voldemort? Did they even read the articles in the Daily Prophet that actually presented the truth about what he had done? Did they even care?

But then he heard those simple words. "What a nice young man…" Harry turned to face the older witch who had made the comment. He walked up to her slowly and he noticed that she almost cringed at first when she realized that he was looking at her and then approaching her. Harry then tried to give as friendly a smile as he could manage as he spoke softly to her. "Miss," he said in a tone that indicated respect, "I couldn't help but overhear your words to your friend here. And would just like to say 'thank you' for understanding that everything I did over the past couple of decades was to keep people safe. And no, I am not looking for thanks, or for a pat on the back, or another bloody Order of Merlin award. All I ever wanted was for the magical world to be at peace, that people could live their lives without fear of attacks by Death Eaters or other groups. To hear just one person say that they appreciated what I have done for everyone helps." With that Harry turned and walked away. As he walked up the alley he thought about the woman's first words, 'Do you remember…', and he had an idea. Harry headed to a particular shop that he hoped would be able to help him with what he had in mind for Jasmine.

* * *

Harry arrived at Greengrass Manor a little after six that evening, and he hoped he had not arrived too late for supper. He stumbled onto the floor in the main lounge where the floo connection was located. As he stood up and brushed the soot off of his robes, he looked up to see two very beautiful women standing in front of him. He walked up to Daphne and embraced her and gave her a kiss on her cheek.

"You don't know how much I enjoy seeing your face again, your smile, and remembering what we shared all of those years ago," he said sincerely. Then he turned to his daughter, "Jasmine, you luckily received your good looks from your mother, and I am truly sorry that I have not been a part of your life since even before you were born."

Jasmine smiled awkwardly at the words of her newly revealed father. The day before was simple enough for her, as all she had to do was make a dramatic entrance and deliver a mysterious letter to a man she had heard only stories about. He just so happened to be one of the most famous wizards who ever lived, and now she had learned only recently that this same man was her father.

She blushed slightly as she realized he was staring at her.

"You have your grandmother's eyes," Harry added. "Some might even go so far as to say you have your father's eyes."

Jasmine blushed slightly. "Apparently there was a charm placed on them from when I was born, to hide this color from everyone who saw me, as it was feared that they might lead someone to figure out who my father is."

Harry could tell there was some pain and some bitterness as Jasmine spoke those words.

"If there was a way that I could make up for the past twenty years, please know that I absolutely would do it," he said with conviction. "But having grown up with only the love of your mother, and probably doubting that your father could ever care for either of you, or else he would have been there for you both, I can only imagine that you must have doubts and fears about meeting me now."

Jasmine remained impassive as Harry spoke to her. After a brief pause and hearing no comments or replies from either of the women, Harry reached into a magically enhanced and protected pocket within his robes and pulled out a framed picture. In typical magical fashion, the two people in the picture were moving. They appeared to be holding each other close and dancing together, all alone in an otherwise empty room. Jasmine looked at the magical photo and then looked at her father. She obviously recognized that it was her parents together, some years ago.

Harry noted the tear that formed on Daphne's cheek as she looked at the picture with Jasmine. Harry then went on to explain why he gave her this picture. "I am sure that your mother told you that all of our memories were affected by a very powerful spell. However, for the past twenty years I would occasionally have this dream of dancing with the most beautiful woman I had ever met. In those dreams I could never see her face, and I often wondered where the dream came from. After getting the spell lifted and my memories returned I quickly recalled this night. It was the last night your mother and I spent together before my friend cast the spell that would make me forget your mother and you, for we knew you were on the way. I had this photo made from my memories so that you could see that yes, we were in love back then."

Harry was having a hard time maintaining his own composure when he felt Daphne wrap her arms around him and she kissed him on his cheek.

Jasmine looked at the photo as she held it in her hands and then at her parents who she could tell were still in love. She could sense the pain they both felt for twenty years of separation. Jasmine looked up at her father's matching eyes to her own, and simply said, "Thanks dad, this means a lot."

At that moment a house elf appeared in the room. "Mistress Daphne, the dinner is ready to be served, if you could all come to the dining room."

"Thank you, Gerty," Daphne said to the house elf. "Why don't we continue this reunion and take some time to get to know each other over dinner," she added.

The trio followed the house elf as she led the way to the dining hall. As they enjoyed the delicious meal that had been prepared for them, Harry tried to explain to Jasmine just what he had been able to remember over the past twenty-four hours.

How their friend Neville had borrowed a particular wand of Harry's that was very powerful and cast the intricate spell that Harry and Daphne had designed that would obliviate their memories of their relationship. Harry was also obliviated of all knowledge of Daphne's project on time travel.

Jasmine was listening intently as she tried to understand why her parents would go to such an extreme measure to ensure privacy or secrecy.

Harry paused for a moment as he considered her question. He looked away from his daughter as he answered her question. Then he simply stated that he did it out of fear. Out of fear of retribution if the Death Eaters ever found out about his relationship with Daphne, or that he had a child. Harry explained how he had initially gone to seek advice and help from Daphne in creating the tracking device so he could find every Death Eater. Because of his mission to eradicate the Death Eaters, Harry wanted to make sure that they would never have the opportunity to learn of the time travel device that her mother was working on, for if they did manage to use time travel there would be untold horrors that they could have enacted.

Harry also explained that the spell was cast in such a way that the time travel device would not be used by anyone until after the Lord Protector had completed his mission of eliminating the Death Eater threat completely.

Jasmine listened to all of Harry's explanations, and then she started to ask more questions of Harry and her mother.

"If the spell made you both forget things so thoroughly, how did you both start to remember?" she asked of the couple.

Harry looked over at Daphne who began the explanation. "The spell was designed with a method to start to reverse the effects. It was keyed to the very tracker that I had helped your father create to find every last Death Eater. Once that last Death Eater was captured and brought to your father's hidden fortress, my memories would start to recover, with the compulsion to contact Harry with the letter that you brought to him yesterday."

Jasmine raised an incredulous eyebrow, having a hard time accepting the simplistic explanation.

Harry added, "Like I said, we developed the spell together, including many detailed parts of the spell."

"How detailed?" asked Jasmine.

"Detailed enough to give you a glamour for the first 19 years of your life so that your eyes would not be recognizable as matching your father's," explained her mother.

"Detailed enough so as to prevent either one of us from falling in love with another person, or even developing a relationship with another person," offered Harry as a further explanation. "We had no idea how long the spell would need to last, as we had no idea how long it would take to find every last Death Eater, but we didn't want to ever give up the hope of getting back together, even if we didn't know it because we forgot each other."

Jasmine looked at her parents with a slight frown. "I don't know if you two are pathetic or hopeless romantics," she added.

Harry gave a lopsided smile to his daughter at her latest comment. Then he offered a further explanation, "The spell had a form of the fidelius charm added to it. I presume you have at least some knowledge of that charm."

Jasmine returned his smile with a confused look. "What would a charm for protecting a location of an object have to do with this spell you two created?"

Daphne answered for Harry. "The spell had a secret keeper, someone who knew the truth and was able to help with the reversal of parts of the spell once certain criteria were met."

Jasmine raised her eyebrows as she started to understand a little more about what her parents were saying. "So, this friend of yours, Lord Longbottom, he cast the spell for you and he was the one who knew the truth all along and he helped with ending the spell once the Lord Protector had finished his mission."

"That would be it in a nutshell," said Harry as it seemed that his daughter was understanding everything. Harry felt relieved that so far she seemed to be taking everything rather well. She seemed to truly appreciate the magical photo that he had given her. She seemed to understand the intricacies of the very detailed spell that her parents had created. Harry just hoped that she would be able to understand enough about what they did and why they did it so as to be able to forgive him for not being a part of her life. He felt horrible that he may have caused her to feel abandoned by him, and he knew it would take quite some time to make that up to her, if he ever could do that at all.

The conversation was interrupted as Gerty came back into the dining room an announced that dessert would be served shortly. "Treacle tart," proclaimed the house elf, "Mistress Jasmine's favorite."

Harry shared a look with Daphne, who now recalled that she had learned years ago that was Harry's favorite dessert. As the tart was brought out to the dining room, Jasmine looked over at her father and Harry could easily discern that she seemed to be struggling with something. He decided to ask her what was troubling her.

Jasmine looked between her father and her mother, and then she took a deep breath. "I understand what you did with the spell and the memories and all that. I understand you did that to protect mum and me from the Death Eaters. What I don't understand, however, is why. Why did you have to go to such lengths? Why did you have to do the things you did? What could possibly motivate someone to become such a cold blooded killer and wipe out entire families?"

Harry put down his fork and looked first to Daphne and then to Jasmine. He noted that Daphne's eyes were watering with tears.

Harry spoke softly but clearly. "This may take a little while, and you may not want to hear all of it, but it needs to be said." He then looked at his daughter and tried to force a smile and then he continued, "Before I met your mother, that is before we really met through her work at the Department of Mysteries, I had been engaged to another witch. What I am about to show you is the same memories that I showed to the Ministry over twenty years ago when the Lord Protector was created."

Harry paused and withdrew a small box from within his robes. He expanded the box and retrieved a projecting penseive and placed it on the table in front of them. "Let me know if you need me to stop showing the memories."

**AN: So here we are, about to hear the reasons why Harry became who he is...the details may well be unpleasant to read...this chapter was previously written and may take a while to completely rewrite (yes, the laptop is still inoperable).**


	5. Chapter 5 - In The Hands of Death Eaters

**AN: As a warning there is a scene that is graffic with violence...there willbe a warning in bold type if you want to skip it and another bold type message to indicate where the scene ends. No actual beings were hurt in the writing of this chapter...Or skip to the next chapter which will have some unpleasantness but not nearly as much as this chapter. The next two chapters were originally written as one, but they were separated in case some readers decided to skip parts of the following scene.**

* * *

Harry placed the penseive on the table. He pulled out his wand and started to point it towards his head, and then he stopped and placed it on the table next to the penseive.

Harry then asked her, "Jasmine, how much do you know of the history of what happened within the magical world after the end of the Second Wizard War, and the defeat of Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort?"

She wrinkled her brow at his question. "Well, everyone knows how Harry Potter, or you, defeated Voldemort in a fantastic duel at the Battle of Hogwarts. A lot of people died that day, but some of his followers got away. Some were imprisoned, and then they were eventually released."

Daphne interjected, "That's the teaching at school? What do they teach about The Lord Protector?"

Jasmine's eyes widened a little. "Hogwarts never had any official teaching on the Lord Protector. There were rumors of course. Some said that you had gone round the twist and were vengeful taking out your anger on those who were just remotely associated with the Dark Lord. Others said you were a crusader, like a superhero, trying to protect our society from those who wished to harm others. Some said you were the new dark lord who was eliminating his competition and then you would plan to take over the ministry."

Harry leaned back into his seat. "But what do you believe? What do your friends believe?"

Hs daughter blushed a little, "I never really had a lot of friends. Apparently growing up with a mother who runs the Department of Mysteries and the biggest mystery is how she got pregnant and who the father is was enough to make me labeled as an outcast. There are still some pure-blood bigots, and then there are the pro-muggle-borners."

"The what?" asked a surprised Harry.

"Pro-muggle-borners," stated Jasmine more slowly. "It's a new kind of radical group that feels that the muggle born witches and wizards should be leading the magical world as they understand the muggle world better and would do a better job maintaining equality for everyone."

Harry shook his head, "I guess I need to get out more. I've been so caught up in my 'mission' of eliminating every last trace of the Death Eaters, that I've lost touch with what's going on right now."

Jasmine stifled a laugh at that, "The pro-muggle-borners look to the Lord Protector as justification for their movement. With your need to eliminate such a radical group as the Death Eaters that showed that the pure-bloods can't be trusted with power. They point to the Muggle-Born Registration Act and the associated atrocities as another example of the tyranny of the pure-bloods. You know, Dad, I'm not sure if you made this world better or worse with what you've done."

Harry considered his daughter's comments. Then he added thoughtfully, "Your assessment is fair enough. But back to my original question, what do you know about the 12 years between the end of the Second War and the establishment of the Lord Protector?"

Jasmine frowned as she worried she really didn't know enough about that, and Daphne realized that she maybe didn't teach enough of their society's recent history to their daughter. I know that the first minister after the war, Kingsley Shacklebolt, stepped down after about 4 years. There were rumours that he may have been forced to step down. Then they had the muggle-born elected minister. What was his name? Oh yeah, Mortimer Leach. His father had been the first muggle-born minister. That was when the muggle-born wizards and witches decided to show leniency on the convicted Death Eaters and their sympathizers as a show of compassion and an effort for, what did they call it again, Magical Unity."

Harry nodded as she had the basic facts correct. "That was when the attacks started up again," added Harry. "The attacks were staged to look like accidents. The Weasley's home, the Burrow, had been rebuilt after the war. But the investigation into the explosion that took the life of Arthur, Molly and Percy, who had been visiting that night, was that it was due to one of Mr. Weasley's muggle artifacts blowing up after he was playing with it. The deaths of Bill Weasley and his wife Fleur and their daughter were due to a horrible storm that caused a wave to wash away Shell Cottage. Supposedly there was no trace of magic in the area. The others," Harry paused as he tried to constrain his emotions, "there were too many accidents. They all seemed to happen only to people who fought with the Order of the Phoenix, those who fought along side me at the Battle of Hogwarts."

Harry's words ended and there was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Daphne reached out and grasped his hand to try and comfort him, as she knew that the memories he was about to share with their daughter were unpleasant at best.

Harry squeezed her hand back and then he picked up his wand and withdrew the memories he intended to show to the two of them. He took the silvery tendrils of light and deposited them into the penseive. "This will not be fun," he added, "so whenever you are ready, let me know, and we can dive right in. Also, if it gets to be too much, then just say so and we will stop."

With that the three of them dove into the penseive.

* * *

**LE-DH 5.1 warning warning - scene with images of intense violence**

* * *

As they arrived in the memory, there was a grey mist everywhere, and they still couldn't see anything. Harry spoke softly, as he explained the situation. "On this night, I had just spent a pleasant evening with my fiancée, Ginny Weasley. We had apparated back to Potter Manor, which I had recently discovered from reviewing all of my family's accounts with the goblins. The scene will begin with our arriving at the manor."

The grey mist cleared and they saw the young couple arriving in front of the manor. They took a step towards the front doors and then Harry stopped. Harry started to turn around, clearly having a feeling of something being amiss. Then there was an explosion as the front of the manor burst out with a ball of flame towards the two. Harry reflexively pushed Ginny behind him and silently cast a protego shield over them. The sound of the explosion was fading and before Harry or Ginny could say anything there were suddenly multiple red beams of light heading towards the two of them from all around. Then without a sound the two collapsed onto the ground.

The grey mist gathered again and Harry noted that Daphne was holding onto Jasmine. Daphne had heard the story, but she had never seen the memories like this.

The mist cleared and they saw that Harry was manacled to a stone wall. It looked as though he had been physically beaten. He started to shake his head slightly and then he gazed around the room as his eyes fluttered open. "Bloody hell," he croaked out. Then his gaze turned sharply to his right, where he saw chained to a table the still unconscious form of Ginny. She did not look to be as abused has he had been.

Then a voice broke the quiet of the dimly lit room. "Oh, this won't do at all, we really must have more light down here," spoke the deep voice with a sadistic glee. With a wave of his hand magical torches lit up around the room and everyone could see there was a group of about eight people wearing the black hooded robes and Death Eater masks. "It's about time we had a little reunion, don't you think?" questioned the man as he approached Harry. "Perhaps I should introduce myself to you, as I don't think we have ever formally met. Augustus Rookwood at your service." He reached his hand out as to offer to shake Harry's hand then he pulled it back. "Oh, sorry about that, I see you're a little preoccupied to shake my hand. Well, no offense taken then."

The smug Death Eater smiled wickedly at Harry. "You know, I often wondered just why you were so hard to kill. After all, the Dark Lord was unable to do it, I forgot how many times. But you didn't seem so hard to catch. Perhaps you're getting soft. Or maybe it's just because there is no prophecy predicting whether I can kill you or not."

Rookwood spun around and gestured to the others in the room and then turned to face Harry. "I am sorry for my lack of manners, Mr. Potter; perhaps I should introduce my guests here to you." Turning back to the Death Eaters, he continued, "Come now, we're among friends here, take off your masks, let him see you all. We have nothing to hide from our dear friend Harry."

His sarcasm dripped from his voice like syrup flowing over a stack of pancakes.

The group all stepped forward and removed their masks. Harry obviously recognized a few of the faces. Rookwood chastised his followers, "Now, now, let's not be rude to our guest. Introduce yourselves to the young men, just in case he does recognize those whom he condemned to years on prison, or outright attacked."

A large man with a beefy face that seemed vaguely familiar to Harry stepped forward. "Vincent Crabbe Sr.," grunted the man as he introduced himself with a sneer. "It's your fault that my son died at Hogwarts, and I will see retribution paid for what you did."

The young woman with a pug shaped face stepped forward with a gentleman with a similar face stepped up behind her. "You already know me, Potter, and you will suffer for what you did to my friends and family that night."

"Now settle down, Pansy," said the tall man with his hand on her shoulder, "I'm glad to hear you stand up for me, like you stood up for the right cause that fateful night when the school wouldn't follow your courageous lead and turn him over to the Dark Lord. We can't all be as forward thinking as you my dear." Then he turned to look at Harry and stared him down with a harsh glare. "You disrespected my daughter that night several years ago. You caused me and my family to be disgraced when I was thrown into Azkaban. But here we are, in the very place I swore I would never return to, but Augustus here had quite the convincing speech for why I should return. I am grateful he told me to come back."

A stocky man with a rough voice stepped up next. "Artemus Selwyn, here," he said with a gravelly tone. "I've seen you before. I think I took out your fancy little bird that night you tried to escape with that giant oaf. I have no idea how you ever survived that crash on that muggle motor bike thing, but enough is enough. We won't have to chase you down ever again." The man stepped forward and spat in Harry's face.

Another man stepped forward and it was clear from Harry's reaction that he recognized this man. "So, it was you who knocked me out that day you broke into the ministry and then you dared to impersonate me." Albert Runcorn sneered at Harry. "I have been waiting for this moment of payback for quite a long time."

"It seems you have attracted quite the fan club, young Harry," added Augustus Rookwood.

Then a tall man with short blonde hair stepped forward. Harry recognized him from the night that Dumbledore was killed on the astronomy tower and from when he and Dolohov tried to capture him and Hermione and Ron at the shop on Tottenham Court Road when they were escaping from the attack at Bill and Fleur's wedding. "I experienced a lot of pain after you and your little friends managed to get away from me and Antonin that summer. Lot's of pain. And I expect that you will receive even more from me before we are done here tonight," jeered Thorfinn Rowle.

Malcolm Mulciber Jr. stepped forward and placed a hand on Rowle's shoulder. "You will need to wait your turn my friend. I know I will take my time repaying this young man for the problems he has caused. His father was a particular pest to us long ago, so I will be sure to take my time as I exact my revenge for the times I ended up in Azkaban. It really is quite a shame that the ministry never could keep us here very long. But I suppose it is only fair, as I am sure that your stay here won't be very long either."

One of the other men stepped forward and spit at Harry. "I don't need to stay to see how this ends," scoffed the man with wiry gray hair. "At least my son, Theo, was not one of the many who were corrupted by your drivel. I trust my friends to know how this will end for you eventually, maybe tonight, maybe not for a couple of more days. But I won't bore myself with watching this spectacle." Then the elder Nott turned and spoke to Rookwood. "Enjoy yourselves tonight, my good friend. Do stop by for tea tomorrow if you have the time." With that he turned and walked out of the room and left.

A man with long blonde hair pulled into a pony tail stepped up next. "It is a shame that Nott didn't want to stay to enjoy this. Personally, after what happened when you tried to escape from the Ministry several years ago, I am looking forward to this. You all nearly splinched me when you apparated away, and then you left me to be attacked by that crazy house elf." Yaxley's demeanor became more intense and severe as he continued, "you will wish you would have splinched yourself that day by the time I am done with you."

Harry noted that the man had a scar running across the right side of his face that was not there back when he tried to stop them from leaving the ministry with the Locket of Slytherin. He wondered if it could have been from one of the battles or from the near splinching that he had said occurred during the escape with Ron and Hermione.

John Dawlish, the former Auror, appeared next. "You always thought you were so smart. Always had the protection of the fabled Albus 'for the greater good' Dumbledore. But he won't be showing up to save you tonight. And neither will your two chums from school. We already made quick work of them both. Although, not as quick with the mudblood. Now, she was fun for a little while."

Rookwood then stepped forward and gestured for the others to step back.

"These friends of yours, my dear young Harry, have all spent much too much time on this very rock, and some of that was do to your direct efforts," continued Rookwood with a note of concern in his voice. "These upstanding citizens of our magical country were liberated because of the wonderfully forward thinking new minister, Mortimer Leach. We must all admit that we so very much underestimated the power of the muggle-borns. Their mercy and gentleness is amazing. Why, their deciding that for the betterment of our land that those who were accused of spreading hatred and dissent should be freed and not punished for blindly following such a charismatic leader as Tom Riddle was a stroke of genius. Yes, we all have heard your stories of how Lord Voldemort was really a half blood pretender. And for your exposing him and defeating him, we must be in your debt. For that favor, you have earned the right to live just a little longer now."

He conjured a chair in front of Harry and he sat himself down. "By now you've probably realized that there is no hope for your escape. Yes, those are magic inhibiting manacles holding you tight. It was awful generous of Dawlish to bring those with him tonight. So, while I have heard stories of your abilities with wandless magic that should not be a problem here. And as you were told, we do not need to worry about anyone coming to rescue you tonight. No one knows you're here. The goblins who helped us locate Potter Manor and break down the wards have already been disposed of, so there is no one else to who could ever tell anyone where you are. No one will even consider looking for you for probably a day or two. Besides, who is there left to look for you now anyways?"

The man sat back in the chair and let those words sink in for a moment.

"Your mate, your on again off again friend, Weaselie, he was the easiest. Yaxley and Mulciber here just went outside of that pitiful excuse for a shop on Diagon Alley and started hurling insults at him. The young man was so predictable, so hot tempered; that he came out throwing spells left and right. It was so easy to make it all look like self defense to any of the bystanders. Of course, by the time he was torn apart by the bludgeoning hexes the Aurors hadn't arrived yet. And Yaxley and Mulciber were gone. It all happened so fast that the witnesses seemed to only remember that your friend came out yelling at everyone and attacked two men, who simply defended themselves."

Harry remained silent as anger burned in his eyes and he struggled against the manacles that held him tight.

"My friend, I must remind you, that it is absolutely pointless for you to struggle against those manacles. No sense hurting yourself before we take the opportunity to cause you more pain than you can imagine."

Harry stifled the response of telling them he could imagine quite a bit of pain, having experienced the Cruciatus curse from Voldemort on multiple occasions, in addition to having the former dark lord try and possess him.

"Now," continued Rookwood, "the little mud-blood bitch was more fun to take down. She thought she was so smart; smarter than any pure-blood. She wasn't smart enough to figure out that her magic was weak from her own mud-blood impurity. Just playing off of her misplaced sense of superiority was such a simple thing to do. We soon arranged a series of correspondence with her from a mysterious witch who was studying a supposed association between magical strength and family heritage. By sharing bits of supposed research with her and then eventually requesting a meeting it was so easy to get her to fall into the trap. I think all of these fine men here enjoyed the chance to show her just what a mud-blood whore was good for. Once they all had their fun it was just a simple matter of slitting her throat to let the worthless muddied blood spill onto the ground. Leaving her body to rot in front of the remains of the rubble of the pathetic excuse for a home that her boyfriend's family called a home was just to make sure that her carcass wouldn't be found near any respectable witches or wizards."

Harry was seething with anger, still fighting at the manacles.

_While observing all of this Daphne had gone to stand next to Harry and had embraced him while she hid her face in his shoulder at some of the scenes and with some of the stories. Jasmine was crying as she watched this. She looked up to her father as she asked, "There is more to this? These animals just continued?"_

_Harry steeled himself before he responded. "They haven't really begun to do anything, yet," came his words in a hushed tone. _

Rookwood stood up to stretch a little and he turned to speak to his friends. "Why don't you all make sure you have anything for our next round of entertainment while I tell some more stories to our honored guest here? The blood-traitor bitch should be waking up soon from her last beating." He then turned to face Harry once again.

"Would you like to hear how we trapped the Weasley parents and the pitifully inept son Percy in that eyesore of a home they called the Burrow?" he began again in his taunting of Harry. "How we easily enchanted some of the ridiculous muggle contraptions that Mr. Weasley had hidden in his shed so that they would cause a fire and then an explosion? Or how we all stayed to make sure that no one left and then we removed any traces of the wards that kept everyone locked inside of the house? We decided not to wait around for any magical authorities to show up, but we already knew what we would find. Dawlish still has connections within the DMLE, it made it so much easier to set this all up."

Tears were streaming down Harry's face as he again struggled against the manacles.

Rookwood's face turned to an evil leer as he continued, "Our sending those giant waves to destroy a little cottage along the coast. Of course, we had made sure that the curse breaker and the Veela whore of a wife and the mongrel child had no way to escape. A wizard who allows himself to work FOR goblins deserves death anyways. One who sullied himself routinely with a sub-human creature on such a regular basis, taking her as his wife, and not just using her as his concubine, well, that just disgraced his magical core even more. He forced our hands by his own actions. He betrayed his magical heritage. Their screams as they were crushed in the rubble and the flood were music to our ears. I can share these memories with you if you would like, the imagery is breath taking."

_Jasmine and Daphne both felt that they could easily vomit as they watched the pure hatred displayed in front of them._

He sat himself down once more in front of Harry. "You see, young Harry, this just proves why the mud-bloods have no place in our society. They are weak. Your wonderfully forward thinking Minister for Magic wanted to make sure that our society remained peaceful, so he let all of those who fought in the war go free. I think there must be some ill conceived muggle logic at work here. This glorious forward thinking was contributed to in the most wonderful manner, when Donhagan Tremlett, the bass player I think, for that loud band called the Weird Sisters. When he decided to get all political minded and speaking out for forgiveness or amnesty or some other such nonsense the tide began to turn as far as public opinion. We actually had sympathy from many of the fools who should have continued to fear us. But they had their new mantra. Be kind to your enemies so he will show you mercy. Well, that very kindness we graciously accept. And with that we will now teach you and all of our magical brothers and sisters what those in power really should do with that power. We now know we cannot lose. Our enemies want to love us; they want us to love them. They lead themselves to their own slaughter. It is so pathetic that we must our of good taste and a proper sense of duty finish the work they have bestowed upon us and eliminate those who are too weak to deserve to even live. This is just the beginning of our new revolution to take back what is rightfully ours, what we will fight for, forever, until it is ours and we cannot lose it. Make no mistake; we will no go quietly, for we will not go. Our work has just begun. And your minister and the rest of the ministry clearly doesn't have the stomach to do anything to stop us." He took a deep breath, and then he continued. "I must apologize, I am running on and on about things that really won't matter to you, as we will take care of you once we dispose of the dirty bitch that we brought here with you. But, at least you will know well how you have truly and completely failed. And then you will die, Mr. Potter. And there is nothing you can do about it."

Rookwood then gestured to the table where Ginny had been tied down and the other Death Eaters had gathered around. "Ah, I see my friends are about ready to begin. And you will be able to watch and listen as they slowly beat your precious fiancée, this blood traitor. They will do much the same to her as was done to the mud-blood Granger. You will understand well just what we think of you and your blood-traitor friends by the time we are done, and she has breathed her last and every last drop of magical blood is drained from her body before we burn her remains. She might be a blood traitor, but there might be some use for pure magical blood in some rituals banned by the ministry. We wouldn't want such a precious item as magical blood to go to waste, now, would we."

Rookwood stepped back so that Harry had an unobstructed view of where Ginny lay. As the group began to beat her, cut her, attack her in so many ways, Rookwood's voice called out, "Now, we don't want to waste any of our magic as we do this, we'll just use muggle means of making her suffer and die."

* * *

**5.5 end of scene with intense violence**

* * *

Jasmine and Daphne both collapsed as they watched the beatings begin. Harry pulled the three of them out of the penseive. The screams of Ginny as she was being beaten still echoed in their ears as they found themselves on their knees retching at the images they had just witnessed.

The two women were sobbing after having witnessed so much horror in Harry's memories. Harry gave them time to recover. Thirty minutes later they were sitting in the lounge on a sofa, drinking tea which seemed to have settled them all somewhat, as even Harry was disturbed by reliving his memories.

Jasmine whispered loud enough for her mother and father to both hear her words, "That explains so much."

Daphne was leaning against Harry to comfort him as much as she felt the need to be comforted. "How long was this before you came to my department and asked for my help?"

"That was about three months prior to my showing up there," answered Harry. "I had already gone before the Wizengamot and showed them the memories. I had already spoken to the Minister about my plans, and this led to the political changes to strengthen the magical government by allowing elected officials in addition to continuing the traditional family seats. By following the lead of the muggle government when they created their own House of Lords and House of Commons we were able to secure both historical tradition and introduce modernization into our government."

Jasmine considered her father's words. "But with a little medieval twist of adding a one man judge, jury and executioner."

"The Lord Protector was a one man gardener to prune a diseased branch from the vine that threatened to kill the whole vine. Those who espoused the extreme views as you had just heard were all clearly marked. They had already acted as their own judge and jury by taking Riddle's Dark Mark." Harry let his words sink in for a few minutes before he continued. "They condemned themselves with what Rookwood told me that night. You heard his words. You saw their actions. I could do nothing more and nothing less than what I have done."

Daphne took Harry's hand in hers, and then she asked quietly, "But, in the last memory you showed us, you were manacled to the wall. You had your magic blocked. How the bloody hell did you escape from them? How did you survive?"


	6. Chapter 6 - Harry's Escape

**AN: And now we continue with the escape. I know these are short chapters but I decided to split them up to allow someone to skip the previous chapter if they so desired...**

* * *

_Daphne took Harry's hand in hers, and then she asked quietly, "But, in the last memory you showed us, you were manacled to the wall. You had your magic blocked. How the bloody hell did you escape from them? How did you survive?"_

* * *

_Lord Emperor - Dark Hunter - Harry's Escape_

Harry took a deep breath as he removed the memories he had placed into the penseive. He did not want to have any chance of reliving those memories they had just shared. He then withdrew another silvery strand from the side of his head and placed this memory into the penseive.

"This will not be a pleasant experience, but it just might be less ghastly than what you have already witnessed," said Harry, his demeanor tense, and his tome somber.

He reached his hands out to the two women sitting at the table with him. "Take my hands and we shall dive into the fray, as it were, one more time."

The grey mist started to clear and they all saw Harry still manacled to the wall. Tears were streaming down his face, and blood was dripping from his wrists from fighting the bonds that held him tight.

Daphne and Jasmine realized that Harry had added to this memory as they could occasionally hear the thoughts that were running through Harry's mind at the time he was chained to the wall.

Augustus Rookwood turned away from the dead body of Ginevra Weasley, pale from having bled out from the multiple stabs and cuts, bruised in places from the beatings the animals who called them selves Death Eaters had given her. The group seemed to be in a state of euphoria after committing unspeakable acts of depravity, and Rookwoods smile on his face seemed most disconcerting as he walked up to Harry.

"You have seen what that we can and will do what we want. You have heard all that we have done to you and your so called friends. You have no one left, and you are powerless to stop us!" he exclaimed.

Harry's thoughts echoed around the memory, "Has he been watching too many villains in bad muggle movies?"

Rookwood laughed at Harry's condtion. "You are powerless, my boy, and now you can hang there, knowing that any moment we will exact our final revenge on you for all that you have done. Oh, it will not be quick, that would be too kind. It will not be too soon, so much better to make you suffer as you wonder when will your end come. You will be begging us to release your soul before too long."

Rookwood then turned away to talk among his friends who were cleaning themselves up from the mess of splattered blood and bodily fluids after they had completely defiled the body of the young woman. Pansy Parkinson was carrying a container in which all of Ginny's spilled blood had been collected.

Harry's thoughts and emotions could be heard by the trio in the penseive watching the memories. They could feel Harry's remorse and guilt over failing his fiancée, his friends. They felt his rage and anger grow at having been forced to first listen to the brutal ways his friends had been murdered and then having to watch the depravity as they assaulted Ginny. He felt ashamed for allowing them to be captured so easily and not being able to do anything about what had happened. They felt his desire to protect those who had already died, and those who were at risk for attack knowing that the Death Eaters now held no fear of retribution.

Harry considered that his failure to protect his friends could lead to a new evil that might grow unchecked. Harry felt his hatred for the Death Eaters grow, and his love and desire to protect those who knew not what harm might befall them. Harry felt he needed to do something, that somehow he was responsible for everything that was still happening in the twisted magical world.

Harry concentrated on the idea of his own responsibility. Harry prayed for strength. Harry prayed for the power to stop the evil that these people were planning.

Then he started to feel a strength growing inside of him. At first he could not understand what was happening. Magic was being absorbed by his core, from the very rocks of Azkaban around him, from the magic inhibiting manacles on his wrists, from the earth beneath them, and even from the other people in the room. The magical torches in the room all started to dim.

Crabbe noticed the dimming of the lights and panicked. "Bloody hell, something's wrong here," he called out, and then he immediately apparated away.

Yaxley sneered, "Bloody coward."

Dawlish stepped away from the table where Ginny's body lay, and he looked over at Harry chained to the wall. He noted Harry's eyes starting to glow green and then he stuttered,, "Maybe, maybe Crabbe had the right idea." Then he disapparated as well.

Mulciber looked around the room and was surprised that anyone was acting afraid. "Yaxley's right, they're all acting like cowards. Let's just kill the half blood bastard now and be done with it!"

Rookwood tried to keep everyone calm. "What's the matter, just a little accidental magic as the poor thing desperately tries to save himself. A final act of defiance from a man who can see all to clearly that his situation is beyond hopeless." He then took several steps closer to Harry, and then he reached out and grasped the imprisoned man by his face. "You do know that don't you Potter, there is no one who can save you now. There is nothing you can do. I hold your very life in my hands."

Harry managed to spit at Rookwood through his contorted face and lips. Then a sudden surge of power rushed into Harry and the manacles on his hands shattered. The resulting magical explosion blinded everyone in the room and caused Rookwood to fall backwards. Yaxley was the only person to not trip in response to the explosion and quickly drew his wand and cast a bludgeoning hex at Harry. The curse hit him square on the chest but it seemed to just be absorbed into Harry.

Harry screamed but everyone in the room sensed it was not out of pain, but anger. That anger was turned into vengeance.

A blue light emerged from Harry's hands and shot out at several of the wizards in front of him. The effect was that of a silently cast _expulso_ curse that caused the unfortunate wizards who were blasted to explode. Somehow Rookwood had managed to avoid the blast, but Mulciber, Selwyn and Parkinson were all decimated by the spell. Yaxley and Rowle both had their wands out and started casting spells at the now freed wizard. With his left hand, Harry casted a shield spell silently and it immediately absorbed every spell cast in Harry's direction, and the shield appeared to grow stronger as it absorbed the magical energy. Then another blast of blue energy came shooting from Harry's right hand, catching both Yaxley and Rowle who exploded just like the previous three men. Runcorn tried to apparate away as he saw the destruction around him, but Harry sent another spell his way and a red beam of energy hit him, causing him to splinch and leaving the lower half of his body behind. Harry quickly wondered where Runcorn's upper body would end up and just who might discover the mess.

Harry noted that now he was left to face only Augustus Rookwood and Pansy Parkinson.

Rookwood looked at the destruction around him in shock, having never seen anything like it at all before. Pansy however was furious to have seen her father die at the hands of the half blood jerk who she recalled as being nothing but a pain back in their school days at Hogwarts. She raised her wand and with blind rage she shouted "Avada Kedavra!"

A bolt of green energy streaked towards Harry. To the amazement of the people in the room and the two women watching the memory, Harry's shield absorbed the curse. Am orange beam of energy shot back from the shield and engulfed Pansy in a ball of flame. She screamed only for an instant.

Augustus Rookwood just stared agape at the smoldering cloud where Pansy had been just a moment before. He then turned to face his former captive, and held his wand in front of him but pointing at the floor about half way between them. "Now that is a most impressive display of magic, my young friend. It is clear to see that these attacks you have made have been defensive and reflexive. So, I'll go out on a limb here and not attack you. Let us have a nice little chat and talk this through. You have an amazing power, an amazing ability. We could put it to good use. Use for our mutual benefit. If I am not mistaken, you have me to thank for this new found power. I gave you the motivation to access it. I gave you the willingness to seize it and use it. I can teach you how to use it to your advantage. You owe your very life to me now. You need me."

Harry shook his head in disgust. "I do not need you for anything he snarled. I owe you nothing other than pay back for the murder of my fiancée, for her torture before you and your group mercilessly killed her. I owe you for those friends of mine that you and your friends killed. Every last Death Eater will be found. I will find them all. And they will all taste retribution at my hands. What I have learned today is that the magical world needs to be protected from the likes of you. Before today, there was no one willing to stand up and protect this world the way it should be. But now, I think there is something I can do about it all."

Without another word, a blue ball of energy formed around Harry's hand and then shot forth. Harry turned away and did not bother to even look at the resulting explosion as the energy came in contact with the only survivor in the room other than Harry. He walked over to the table and collapsed on top of the lifeless form of Ginevra Molly Weasley.

"They will pay for what they have done," he sobbed. "They will pay for what they have done to you, to your family, and to Hermione. They will pay for what they did to my parents, to Sirius, to Tonks and Moony, to Cedric, to Neville's parents."

After several minutes of silently crying over her, Harry stood himself up and cast a stasis charm over her body. He then turned away from the table and surveyed the room. He cast a scourgify spell and the rest of the contents of the room were burned away, and then even the evidence of the explosions were cleaned away. The bodies of the Death Eaters were gone as well, or what ever was left of them.

Harry considered that Nott, Crabbe and Dawlish got away. But he knew that there freedom would not last. As he thought about everything that had happened that day, he was overcome and collapsed onto his knees, retching on the floor in front of him. After several minutes he regained control of his bodily functions, and then he cleaned the room one more time.

Harry laughed as he thought of a line from a muggle movie he had once watched. "By Granthar's hammer, by the Suns of Warvan, you shall be avenged." Harry thought to himself something seemed really odd about that line.

Then Harry looked around the room, and he decided that this place would be where he would bring every Death Eater, every last child of every Death Eater, and they would meet their end in this room. Harry could now sense the presence of an ancient magic in the rocks around him. He could feel a nearly overwhelming sense of dread in the place. He considered it to be part of the mystique of what was once a formidable magical prison. A prison that had only two people escape from it, not counting the times that Tom Riddle forcibly freed his servants. A prison that no longer existed.

Harry walked out of the chamber he was in and found a very large room that was essentially an empty hall, even larger than the Great Hall at Hogwarts. He then began to explore the rest of the ruins of the former prison. As he completed his survey of the building and the grounds he thought to himself, "The hunt will begin soon. And it will end here for them. Whatever it takes, I will find a way to hunt them down, all of them."

* * *

The trio stepped out of the penseive and into the lounge at Greengrass Manor.

The two women simply hugged Harry in silence as they had tears streaming down their faces.

* * *

**AN: So, Harry has escaped from the clutches of the Death Eaters...and Daphne and Jasmine now know the reasons why Harry undertook the role of The Lord Protector...**


	7. Chapter 7 The Dark Hunter Cometh

**AN: My apologies for the long time between posts, but reality of life can creep in and upset our plans, and I had a little bit of an issue trying to figure out creatively just how I was going to manage this story as it begins a new arc. Thank you readers for your patience and your support. This chapter is a little shorter than usual but it is necessary to establish what comes next as we will soon be learning about the Dark Hunter...**

* * *

Harry was relaxing on a sofa after sharing a wonderful meal with Hannah and Neville. Daphne was sitting next to him, and they were holding hands, enjoying each other's company as they were getting know each other again after their twenty years of self imposed separation. Jasmine was sitting across from her parents as she shifted in her seat feeling a little uncomfortable watching her mother being so close to this man who despite being her father was mostly a complete stranger to her even after having met him just last week.

Hannah brought out tea for everyone and Neville sat down in a chair in between Jasmine and her parents. Harry looked at his cup of tea and then he arose from the couch.

"I'm not used to proposing a toast with a cup of tea," commented Harry as he stared into the bottom of his cup. Then he looked up at everyone and went to lift his cup as he turned to face Neville. Harry was about to continue when Neville stood up and held out his hand as an indication that he was interrupting Harry.

"A toast?" he questioned. "Well, we can do better than a nice hot cup of tea." With a wave of his hand he banished the tea cups all into the kitchen. There came a sudden crash from the direction of the kitchen, followed by a gasp and a scream from a couple of house elves. "Sorry about that, Hannah," added Neville sheepishly, while his wife merely looked down at her feet and shook her head.

""Where was I," asked Neville rhetorically. "Oh, yes, perhaps some fine brandy would go better for a toast."

A moment later a house elf appeared with a platter with a bottle of brandy and 5 snifters. The house elf glared at Neville and then he poured everyone a glass. Once the five people all had their glasses Harry again lifted his and began his toast.

"To Neville, my dear friend," he began with a huge grin. "You have been by my side since we went to the Department of Mysteries together at the end of our 5th year at Hogwarts. You have been my trusted ally through out the past twenty years, supporting me in everything. But most importantly, you kept my most precious secrets safe," he continued with a nod towards Daphne and Jasmine, "and even helped orchestrate bringing them back to me, and returning our memories to both Daphne and me. You have been more than a friend; you have been my brother, my most trusted helper. And you and your lovely wife have had to put up with me and my boorish visits for the past couple of decades. Thank you Hannah for your continuous hospitality and for allowing your husband to join me on occasion for the some of the adventures or outings we have had over the years."

"I owe so much to the two of you that I know that there is no way I could ever begin to repay you," said Harry as he finished his toast.

Neville walked over to Harry and embraced him with a hug. "You have been my brother, Harry," smiled Neville, "and you know I would do anything for you. You alone had faith in me, even before we went to the Department of Mysteries that night at the end of our fifth year. I'll always be there for you, mate."

Harry returned the smile. Then he looked at his wife and his daughter, "I only wish there was some way that I could have known you all of your life, that I could have been there to be your father, your dad."

Daphne looked away from Harry as Jasmine simply smiled in response. "It's enough for me to know that I have a dad, that you didn't really abandon mum and me, that what you did was to protect me, to protect us both."

Harry shook his head, "No, that's not enough; I should have found a way to do more."

Hannah noticed Daphne's avoidance of looking at Harry. She gently pulled on Neville's sleeve, "I think they need some time alone," she whispered. When Neville did not initially respond, she added, "without us in the room."

Neville raised an eyebrow in understanding and then he and his wife quietly slipped out of the room.

The three people in the room followed the Longbottoms with their eyes and then turned to look at each other.

"There may be a way," said Daphne quietly. "The time travel device, it just might work. It might be possible to go back and change things."

Harry looked up at her. "I know you sad you had finally finished the device, and I know we talked about this before. But is it worth the risk? What if we change the wrong things?"

Daphne laughed, "Oh, now the Gryffindor Golden Boy gets a conscience and actually thinks before leaping into something. Where were these fears of doing the wrong thing when you attacked a troll or a professor when you were a first year? Where was this worry when you faced a basilisk? Where were these concerns when you faced down Riddle how many times?"

Harry furrowed his brow as he thought about all that Daphne had said, and then he looked at Jasmine. "You two should know that I would risk anything and everything for you. But what if something happens and we don't arrange for us to be together as a family?"

Daphne sighed loudly. "If _we_ go back in time, there are so many questions about what would happen? Would you end up together with Ginny again? How do we get our younger selves together in the first place if we change things? Are you going to change the war? Save everyone this time? What if you and I don't get together? What becomes of Jasmine then?"

Harry scoffed, "You're the director of the Department of Mysteries, don't you have any of these answers?"

"Don't be a prat, Harry" commented Daphne. "It's the Department if Mysteries not the Department of Answers."

Jasmine interrupted, "You two are getting along like an old married couple and you've only been together again for less than two weeks! Obviously mum doesn't have all of the answers. So we will have to figure out just how we're going to do this."

Daphne and Harry both turned to face her. "What do you mean we?" asked Daphne.

"If you two go back in time, and you change the time line, I'm not willing to take the chance that I might just be obliterated out of existence!" exclaimed the young woman. "And don't you think you can tell me I'm not going back in time with you, mum. I am an adult. If you two are going to possibly mess with my birth and my family, I think I have a right to be involved. Besides, any time travel must of necessity create its own paradox. That paradox will keep me alive even if you change things about my birth."

"That makes absolutely no sense," commented Harry.

"Like time travel does," snapped Jasmine. "To a muggle, waving your little wooden stick around and saying silly Latin phrases to make things fly in the air or change a matchstick into a needle doesn't make any sense either, but we al have done that. So don't start lecturing me about what does and doesn't make sense!" Jasmine leaned back into the chair she was sitting on and folding her arms across her chest.

"Well she does have a point," commented Daphne.

Harry stuttered trying to respond. As he was unable to make any intelligible sounds, Daphne continued, "We should talk about this more after we get home. And you obviously have not had any opportunity to take parenting lessons. Our daughter is an adult and quite adept at using magic. She is not a child, she is not incapable of making her own decisions."

* * *

At Daphne's family manor the next day Harry and the Greengrass ladies were relaxing over lunch and discussing their options.

"So, you're actually planning on travelling back in time, eliminating the Death Eaters all over again, and taking out Riddle earlier than before," commented Jasmine.

"Eliminating the Death Eaters, yes," explained Harry, "but I do not plan on going to the extremes that I have over the past twenty years. By eliminating the Death Eater threat and Tom Riddle himself then we should be able to avoid the problems that lead to my taking on the role of the Lord Protector in the first place."

Daphne considered what Harry had said, and then she stood up and walked out of the room without saying anything further. Harry turned to Jasmine who shook her head slightly. "Did you think about the ramifications about what you just said? If the events of twenty or more years ago change, then what brings you and mum together?"

Harry whispered under his breath, "Bloody hell," and then he got up and chased after Daphne whom he found walking the gardens in back of the manor.

He called after her, but Daphne did not turn to face him but simply paused and waited for him. Gently he grasped her shoulders from behind with his hands. "Daphne, I think I must not have been clear in what I meant, or at least I think I see what made you upset."

She turned slightly to look at him and he noted the tears on her cheeks.

"What we can do is save lives. But if we go back in time, we can work on getting together sooner, I don't have to be with Ginny." He took a deep breath as he noted her tears were still flowing freely. "I don't want to be with Ginny, I only want to be with you."

Harry reached up and gently wiped away the tears from her face. "I've missed you, Daphne. I know it sounds stupid, how could I have missed you for twenty years if Neville had obliviated any memory of our relationship. But it's quite simple, at least to me. Once those memories came back, I remembered how much we shared in such a short time. You gave me hope when everything seemed to be lost all those years ago. I remembered how much I loved you and why I would go to the extent I did to protect you. And to protect Jasmine. When I realized I spent twenty years without you I realized that I missed the times we spent together, I missed seeing your face every day, I missed your laugh and your smile, I missed holding you close. I missed everything we did."

Daphne leaned her head on his shoulder. "I've missed you too, now that I can remember what we had together. But if you, or we, travel back in time, how do we know our younger selves will get together? How can we be sure that if we change some things in the time line that we don't change too much? How do we protect Jasmine?"

"We start small," answered Harry. "We make minor changes. See what happens and then go from there."

* * *

Deep within the Department of Mysteries, Harry and Daphne were looking over the time travel device. Harry held the item which looked like an old portable music player, just with several dials on the front. "So, this device should function as a temporal port key, ad send me back in time to a pre-selected date. The device stays put in this room," he continued.

Daphne interrupted, "The device stays put in this room or whatever room we use that we can shield from the temporal fluctuations."

Harry raised en eyebrow. "Wouldn't that create too much magic with an unusual signature? It would draw the attention of the Ministry immediately."

"Then we obviously have to use it in this room, as the Ministry does not monitor what I do in here," add Daphne. "We'll have to have a way to enter and leave this room in the past that will go unnoticed by the Department of Mysteries. Our department has special port keys that can do just that."

Harry still had several concerns. "But what about using this room in the past, how will you know no one else is in here?"

Daphne smirked in response. "That's actually quite simple. This is the time room, there has been no one doing research on time for year, ever since the sands of time were placed into the time turners. Then, after you destroyed the racks of the remaining time turners, I was the first one assigned to research them. This room had been vacant since the early 1900s. It should not be a problem."

Harry smiled as he listened to Daphne's explanation.

"So, what is to stop us from going back and killing Tom Riddle before he even made his first horcrux then? We could save my parents' lives. We could change so much!" exclaimed Harry.

Daphne shook her head. "That's the problem, it could change so much. It could completely change what happened in school. Would we ever meet? What would really happen? We don't know what that would do to the time line."

Harry paused for a moment in thought. "Then we need to be very careful how we plan this all out. We can't take the chance of being found by the ministry or by anyone. I need to establish myself with an alternative identity, one that Dumbledore nor the Death Eaters will suspect as being anything other than whom I claim to be."

"who would you claim to be?" asked Daphne. "And what about me? Or Jasmine? We'll need to have some way for us to travel with you."

"The easiest way to create a new identity is to do what I do best," replied Harry.

Daphne raised an eyebrow at the comment. "Oh, and what exactly would you say that you do best?" she asked with a slight smirk.

Harry grinned back at her. "I have become quite skilled at hunting down others. Even those who know I am coming after them. I go back in time and become a bounty hunter."

"A bounty hunter? And how exactly would you go about doing that?" Daphne asked

"Quite simply by researching when various magical or even muggle criminals were apprehended by the various authorities," Harry explained confidently. "Show up the day before and apprehend them myself. No one would be expecting me. We wouldn't be changing the time line very much or if at all."

"It seems that you have thought about this already," challenged Daphne.

"I have been thinking about this possibility," he readily acknowledged. "Pick a name, set up a home in the past, far away from the magical world, use that as our location for time travel and our base of operations. The trick is to create a name for myself somewhere where there will be little or no questions, before taking that reputation and arriving in England. The more of a back story that I can create, the easier it will be to prevent Dumbledore or Riddle from figuring out just who exactly I am."

Daphne glared at him slightly. "You are not doing this on your own," she stated firmly. "I gave you up for the past twenty years. I am not doing that again. I thought that I had made that clear."

"Yes dear."

"Now that you understand that," continued Daphne, "do you have any more of a plan than those generalities that you have mentioned?"

Harry grinned again. "We will need to meet with the goblins first. See if they have anything that can help us with travelling to the past. We will need galleons when we get there so we can create our home, our base. I am sure it will cost us plenty to get their help, but we have to start there. Then we need to begin to travel back in time. Far enough to find a home that will become our base of operations, and then plan the bounties that we will collect. I figure if we start in Australia, that would be far enough away from England that some mysterious bounty hunter arriving on the scene, say back in the 1970s, would be not too suspicious, at least to those in England. Once I create a name for myself there, then move on to America in the 1980s. Then we can have more of a legend built up about this mysterious bounty hunter by the time we arrive in the 1990s in England."

Daphne was puzzled. "Why arrive in England in the 1990s? And what name would you take, or dark and mysterious one?"

Harry laughed at her question. "The first part is simple, I need to be in England so that in 1993 when my godfather escapes from Azkaban, the Minister For Magic, Cornelius Fudge, decides to hire me to hunt him down. The second part is a little more tricky. I was thinking of various bounty hunters from muggle movies and mythology. Jubal Early, Boba Fett or Django Freeman."

Daphne frowned at him. "I have never heard of any of those people."

Harry laughed again. "And probably no pure-bloods will know those names either. Particularly if I go back in time far enough before they were used in popular culture. Then the muggle-borns might think that the character in the movies was named after the me."

"I like the sound of Django," commented Daphne.

"Then Django I will be," declared Harry. "And then we head to Gringotts tomorrow to see what they can possibly do to help us, and then we begin to establish our selves in the past."

* * *

Harry and Daphne arrived at the Gringotts branch in Diagon Alley early the next morning before many customers would deem it an appropriate time to begin the business of the day. Harry calmly walked up to the counter and greeted one of the tellers in Gobbledygook.

"Kind sir," he said in the goblin's native tongue, "may your gold flow freely and your enemies lie crushed at your feet."

The goblin gave a slight toothy smile in response, but before he could reply, harry continued. "Would you be so kind and see if Steelclaw is available for some private business with the Lord Protector."

The goblin looked more closely at the hooded man with the greying goatee in front of him and then he noticed the fading scar on the forehead that was partially obscured by the dark hair.

"I will do so at once," exclaimed the goblin teller in English. He nearly fell off the stool he was sitting on and quickly disappeared down a hallway behind the where his desk was located.

Daphne lightly tapped Harry's boot with her own and then she quietly commented to him, "Don't you think you would have startled him less if you had your hood removed?"

"Perhaps," he answered slyly, "but I would rather the few customers who might be here at the bank be left to wonder just who I am."

As he was answering the goblin teller returned, still seeming to be out of sorts. "Right this way, if you would please, your Lordship," commented the goblin as he waved for the two to follow him.

Harry and Daphne followed the goblin down a series of corridors and then were shown into a room with a large stone doorway. As the door silently slid open to reveal a rather ornately decorated office and conference room, the teller indicated for them to have a seat. "Steelclaw will be with you shortly, your Lordship."

Harry gave a simple thank you in Gobbledygook as the teller left. Harry and Daphne sat in silence for only a minute before another stone door opposite from where they had entered opened into the room. A slightly taller than average goblin with a scar over the left side of his face and thinning hair limped into the room.

"Greetings, Lord Potter," began the elder goblin. Then he turned to Daphne, "and to you as well Lady Greengrass. To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting my friend?" asked Steelclaw as he once again directed his attention to Harry.

Harry smiled slightly, showing his teeth briefly. "I have a proposition for you , that may help you more than you could imagine, but it would require some extremely confidential assistance from yourself and the cooperation of the whole of Gringotts Bank."

Steelclaw was both intrigued and confused by this statement from Harry. "You seem to be proposing a business deal to me, yet your words are still not clear. You know you can trust us to be discrete in all things, but do explain yourself further."

"I might need some advice and assistance with some upcoming travel plans, my old friend," commented Harry.

"Where will you be planning to travel?" asked Steelclaw, still not sure where Harry was heading with this conversation or why he needed to have it with him.

"You know that my trust in you is unparalleled after you assisted me with my debt to the bank after the defeat of Tom Riddle. So I feel that I can trust you with the information that I am about to share with you, information that may just lead to a sizeable profit for you."

"Please continue, my friend," added Steelclaw. "As I said, I am already more than intrigued."

Harry smiled and then he began to explain himself "I find that I am in need of a vault that I may have access to, not just now, but perhaps 40 or 50 years ago."

Steelclaw did well to hide his reaction from Harry, for although Harry noted a barely detectable flinch, there was no other outward sign of the goblin having any sort of reaction.

"It is good then that we meet here, where the prying eyes of your own ministry cannot discern anything about which we are to speak," explained Steelclaw. "I assume it would perhaps be too much of a thing for you to explain more about the how or even the why but I may be able to help you with the means to solve your dilemma."

The goblin then stood and proceeded to sit down behind the large oaken desk that was located at one end of the room. He reached into a drawer in the desk and pulled out an ornate box that held a stone basin. The basin appeared to be not particularly valuable with a handful of scratches along the service. Steelclaw placed the goblet in front of Harry and then he pulled out a blank parchment from the box that contained the goblet.

Steelclaw returned to the desk, and withdrew another box, this one smaller and more ornate. Placing this on the table next to Harry he then opened it and revealed an ornately carved knife with various runes and also a small vial of a clear fluid.

"Now, we are almost ready to begin, my friend," said Steelclaw as he handed Harry the knife. "We are about to have you perform an inheritance ritual, which will determine what magical families to which you belong. Usually, we only require a few drops of blood as we are looking for simple lineage. However, as I am expecting that our goal here is to find a relation to which you could claim a long sealed vault for a presumed extinct family line. To be as thorough as possible, we will require more than just a few drops of blood for the test."

Daphne paled at the comments from the goblin. "Does he have to fill the goblet with his own blood?"

An odd noise emanated from the goblin, which could only be understood as a form of goblin laughter.

"No, milady, he only needs to put about thirty drops of blood into the goblet, ten times the usual amount for this test. But the silver liquid solution will also need to be ten times the volume, which is why this test becomes so much more expensive to perform." He turned to Harry, normally we charge 100 galleons for this test."

"You're going to have to pay 1000 galleons to do this test?" asked Daphne, allowing her shock at the idea to show through.

The goblin laughed again which was becoming most disconcerting to both Harry and Daphne.

"I will choose to wave the fee if harry can simply provide some tidbits of information about muggle investment opportunities from the time he travels back to. I presume that the profits that we here at Gringotts could stand to make could more than cover the cost of this test." Turning to face harry once again, he continued, "Now, just make a simple slice across the palm of your hand, then we will count thirty drops of blood as it falls into the goblet. Once we have collected that we will mix in 30 drops of the silver liquid, then we will have you use the tip of the knife to stir solution then write your name across the top of the parchment using the knife as a quill. Are you ready to begin?"

* * *

**AN: a mini cliff hanger...**


	8. Chapter 8 - Preparing to Leave

**AN: Sorry this is a short chapter and that it took so long to get published. I have decided to not go into too much detail about certain events in this chapter and the next, much of what happens is implied and does not need a blow-by-blow encounter that could lead to what I feared would be frankly boring dialogue. While this chapter may come across as a little slow, it is the transition to the next phase of the story. Thanks again to those who read and review, particularly those who are encouraging. My goal is to try to get this story finished this fall so I can do my next story for NaNoWriMo and then write the sequel to Moving On (yes, there will be a sequel and I am mapping out the plot in my mind already).**

* * *

_An odd noise emanated from the goblin, which could only be understood as a form of goblin laughter._

"_No, milady, he only needs to put about thirty drops of blood into the goblet, ten times the usual amount for this test. But the silver liquid solution will also need to be ten times the volume, which is why this test becomes so much more expensive to perform." He turned to Harry, "normally we charge 100 galleons for this test."_

"_You're going to have to pay 1000 galleons to do this test?" asked Daphne, allowing her shock at the idea to show through._

_The goblin laughed again which was becoming most disconcerting to both Harry and Daphne._

"_I will choose to wave the fee if Harry can simply provide some tidbits of information about muggle investment opportunities from the time he travels back to. I presume that the profits that we here at Gringotts could stand to make could more than cover the cost of this test." _

_Turning to face Harry once again, he continued, "Now, just make a simple slice across the palm of your hand, then we will count thirty drops of blood as it falls into the goblet. Once we have collected that we will mix in thirty drops of the silver liquid, then we will have you use the tip of the knife to stir solution then write your name across the top of the parchment using the knife as a quill. Are you ready to begin?"_

Harry looked at Daphne who smiled back at him. Harry nodded to the goblin and picked up the knife. He drew the blade slowly across his finger and a small bead of blood began to form at the site of the cut. Then he carefully let the blood drip into the goblet. Steelclaw carefully counted out the drops as the slowly collected in the goblet. As the count reached thirty, the goblin whisked the goblet away and pulled out the vial of silver liquid. Using a delicate dropper, he then counted out to thirty once again while Harry conjured a small cloth to wrap his finger with so as not to bleed any more on the table.

Steelclaw then instructed Harry to gently stir the solution within the goblet, using the knife blade with which he had made the small cut on his finger. As Harry stirred the silver and blood solution Steelclaw chanted briefly in gobbledygook. When he finished his chant, he then rolled out a piece of parchment and then asked Harry to sign his name on the top of the page. Harry found it a little awkward to try and use the knife as a pen but he managed to sign his name with the special solution. Once he had finished signing his name, the writing turned black as the blood and the silver leached into the rest of the parchment. The page appeared to blur in various shades of reds, browns and silvers for the next several minutes. Once the entire page seemed to be covered Steelclaw once again chanted. As he finished there was a bright flash across the parchment and then words began to form on the page.

Harry and Daphne then looked at the words on the page as they formed.

**Harry James Potter**

Lord Potter, of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter  
Lord Black, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

Lord Peverell, of the Ancient House of Peverell

Heir to House of Evanston

Heir to Gryffindor

Heir to Slytherin

Lord Malfoy, heir to house of Malfoy, by conquest

Heir to house of Nott, by conquest

Heir to house of Lestrange, by conquest

Heir to house of Crouch, by conquest

Heir to house of Parkinson, by conquest

Heir to house of Avery, by conquest

Heir to house of Crabbe, by conquest

Heir to house of Goyle, by conquest

Heir to house of Rowle, by conquest

Heir to house of Carrow, by conquest

Heir to house of Gibbon, by conquest

Heir to house of Yaxley, by conquest

Heir to house of Rookwood, by conquest

Heir to house of Mulciber, by conquest

Heir to house of Jugson, by conquest

Heir to house of Macnair, by conquest

Heir to house of Dolohov, by conquest

Heir to house of Rosier, by conquest

Heir to house of Selwyn, by conquest

Heir to house of Travers, by conquest

Heir to house of Runcorn, by conquest

Heir to house of Dawlish, by conquest

The two of them stared at the list in silence for a few minutes until Daphne finally spoke up. "Well, I guess this proves you have been more than a little busy over the past 20 years."

"It makes me feel a little tired just reading that list," added Harry. He then turned to Steelclaw, "Does this mean I have access to all of those vaults?"

"Yes it does," answered Steelclaw with a sneer, "and many of those vaults were sealed upon your edict when you became the Lord Protector and made it clear that those families were all considered enemies of the Ministry." After a brief pause, the goblin added, "And I do believe that you will find that many of those vaults were far from empty. Also, several of the families had secondary vaults that were designed to be hidden from the ministry, however, as you are heir to those families, even though it be through right of conquest, those vaults will be under your control as well."

Harry looked over the list again. "Who is this family Evanston?"

Steelclaw grinned again. "I do believe that would be the lineage of your mother, Lilly Evans Potter. When the family devolved into squibs, they changed their surname and the vault has been effectively in stasis for the past 150 years. If your mother had come here to perform an inheritance test before her death it would have been revealed that it she was the heir to the Evanston family vault.

"What does this all really mean?" asked Harry. "What is my bottom line?"

Daphne added, "And what can we take back with us?" she asked the goblin who had been working with them.

"I can have the tallies for you by tomorrow morning," replied Steelclaw. He then continued after a moment of thought, "As far as taking it with you, it would be most awkward to have galleons show up in the past that might possibly have been minted after you arrive. So it might be best to convert some of your assets into gold bars and gems, if you could take them on your person when you travel."

"I think that should be possible," commented Daphne, "as the basics of what we are doing is similar in some ways to a time turner. A travelling trunk that is shrunken and kept in a pocket or a bag that you bring with you should suffice."

The goblin nodded in agreement with her assessment, "Very well, my friends, then I shall see you tomorrow, no sooner than ten in the morning according to your reckoning. I shall have the details you ask for by then."

* * *

At precisely ten o'clock the next morning Harry and Daphne arrived at Gringotts to meet with Steelclaw. It was apparent that they were expected as the goblin guards ushered them past the security check point and into the main corridor that led to Steelclaw's office without so much as a single word.

Steelclaw was sitting behind his large desk with various stacks of papers. His sharp teeth were apparent as he grinned broadly as Harry and Daphne arrived. "Prompt, as usual, Lord Potter," commented the goblin. "That is so refreshing to see in a wizard. But you never do things quite the way the rest of your fellow wizards do, do you? Now tot he point of this meeting. I have here the documents of the records of you various family holdings."

Steelclaw slid a parchment across the desk to Harry. "As you can see, even with the various fines and penalties you accrued due to your misadventures within this establishment in your youth, you are still quite well off. The Black and Potter holdings have continued to do well over the years. The Peverell vault has remained closed for several hundred years. It has had minimal contents as you can see in this statement," Steelclaw handed another parchment to Harry, "and it is one of the few vaults that the ministry has been monitoring to see if it becomes active again."

Harry frowned at this idea as he had been hoping to use the vault as a place to hide the money he planned to travel back in time with so as to be able to establish a home and an identity. Steelclaw noted the change in his visage and quickly spoke up to give Harry some more hope. "But you do have access to the Evanston family vault. Once a proud family it was thought to have died out a few hundred years ago. However, at the time they were considered just an average family of witches and wizards with little to no assets, so when the family vault went into stasis the ministry did not care. They have not monitored that vault in any way."

Harry and Daphne were both hopeful with this announcement.

"In fact, there is a significant amount of family heirlooms as well as a decent amount of gold in the vault," added Steelclaw. "Apparently after one of the goblin wars, The Lord Evanston had done quite well for himself in trade with the goblin nation, but so as not to arouse and contempt from his fellow wizards he kept his earnings in the vault, and he lived a simple life. His family needed very little support and so the holdings in his vault were left largely untouched."

"But what happened to the family?" asked Daphne.

"Our records indicate that the line ended with a number of squibs. The last Evanston magic user left for the Americas at the time of what the muggles call the American Revolution. There is no record of an Evanston witch or wizard setting up any sort of account with the Western Branch of Gringotts, which would mean that you are the only known magic user who has access to the Evanston family vault. If you are establishing yourself in the past it should not be hard to gain access to the vault as you have the blood of Lily Evans and the ministry is ignorant of the resources that are held within the vault."

"This sounds too good to be true," commented Daphne. "What if someone decides to look into this, or what if Harry's family in the past finds out about the vault?"

Before Steelclaw could answer, Harry gave his own thoughts on the matter. "We open the Evanston vault, and then we create a separate vault, under a new family name."

Steelclaw considered Harry's words and quickly agreed that his idea might be the best way to secure their gold and possessions without fear of anyone else gaining access to the vault, no matter how remote a chance that might be.

After they returned to Daphne's home, she finally asked Harry. "So, the statement of your assets, just how rich are you?"

Harry looked at her and smiled. Then the smile grew into a very large grin. "Richer than the Malfoys ever were, more than twenty times over."

Daphne glared at him. "That means nothing when no one really knew just how much money Draco's family ever really had."

Harry smiled as he answered her, "Well, between the various family vaults and investments, my total assets are over fifty million galleons. I think the majority of that we will not have access to once we travel back in time, but we can bring a fair amount with us as gold and platinum bars in a trunk, and add to that what ever is available from the Evanston vault."

Steelclaw had arranged for the special delivery of a heavily warded trunk later that day to the Greengrass Manor. The delivery occurred late in the afternoon, and several goblin warriors were present for the event as they appeared with a specially designed port-key to take them from within Gringotts to the courtyard in the back of the manor. Daphne looked at the fairly plain looking trunk and raised an eyebrow at Harry, essentially asking him what this was all about.

Harry understood the implied question. He first spoke with the head goblin warrior who was explaining about the protections on the trunk in gobbledygook to Harry. When he was done, the goblin warriors handed Harry a special key and then they port-keyed back to the bank.

"This, my love," answered Harry, "is the contents of the various family vaults reduced to bars of gold and platinum. We will be taking this with us back in time. Essentially the very people I fought to eradicate after all they did to our friends and families will be supporting us as we go back in time and prevent the second war with Voldemort. Plus, we'll have the Evanston family vault as well."

"Have you thought about what vault we will use for all of this?" she asked as she was awed when Harry opened the trunk to reveal that it had been charmed to have multiple rooms, much like the tents that wizards use, and she could see there were several rooms within the trunk, and she correctly surmised that they were all the size of a typical vault from Gringotts.

"Well, we need to pick a new name that the Ministry of Magic will not suspect as being associated with anyone of importance. I can't touch the Peverell or Potter or Black vaults in the past," he added.

"So then, what is your plan?" she asked again.

"I figured I would use a name of supposed royalty that the magicals would never recognize," Harry answered smugly.

"And what name would that be?" asked Daphne.

"Pevensy. A name associated with a certain royal family in a series of muggle fantasy books," said said Harry with a grin. "I doubt anyone in the Ministry has ever heard of the kings and queens of Narnia."

"Where's Narnia?" wondered Daphne who was puzzled by his comments.

"Exactly!" exclaimed Harry with a laugh.

* * *

Later on that day as Harry and Daphne were finishing their dinner together, Jasmine arrived at home. It was clear, even to Harry who had not known her very long, that she was most definitely in a less than pleasant mood. Harry thought about asking her what was bothering her, but before he could speak he was cut off by a stern glare from his daughter.

The unspoken interaction between the two did not go unnoticed by Daphne, who decided to intervene.

"Is there something upsetting you, Jasmine?" asked Daphne, as she tried to get some answers.

"Yes there bloody hell is something bothering me!" she yelled back at her mother. Harry and Daphne both remained silent in response to the verbal outburst, expecting that Jasmine would elaborate more. They did not need to wait very long before Jasmine continued.

"This is all so unfair," she said with the anger still clear in her voice. I spend twenty years, growing up with only a mother, not having any idea who my father might be. Not knowing why my father never wanted anything to do with me or my mum. And then I finally discover who my father is. And he turns out to be the most famous wizard in the past one hundred years and probably one of the most powerful wizards in the past millennia." Jasmine took a deep breath and wiped away an unbidden tear from her eye. "So I finally meet him, and there is even a pretty good story to explain why this powerful wizard has not been in our lives at all for the past couple of decades. That I can deal with. I can understand the reasons behind that, even if I don't like it. But now that I know that my father is Harry Bloody Potter, Lord Protector and all that, he gets all friendly with you, which is not surprising nor is it the problem, by the way. But the two of you are now leaving. And not just taking a little trip. Hell, it's not even a world tour. No, you two have to travel back in time, and possibly destroy life as we know it. And what is the point of doing all of that? Why risk everything?"

After her monologue she collapsed in tears and her mother came up to hold her and comfort her.

Several minutes passed with the only sound being Jasmine's hushed sobs. "You do know that you are welcome to come with us, Jasmine," offered Daphne.

Wiping her tears away with her sleeve, Jasmine sneered slightly. "Third wheel much? I don't think so. Talk about awkward. Join dear old mum and dad on the adventure of a lifetime while they have twenty years of time without each other to make up for. It's bad enough I have those images in my mind already mum, I bloody well don't need to see any more of it day in and day out."

Harry was not sure how to react to the emotional outburst from his daughter. He wondered silently if he would have been any more prepared for it if he had been involved as a father throughout her life.

Daphne looked up at Harry and he could see her motherly love for their daughter. Harry was amazed that Daphne barely looked any older than when they were last together twenty years ago, and how she could easily pass for being Jasmine's older sister. The thought of how amazing it is to be magical briefly flashed across his mind.

Then Daphne's voice caught his attention. "Harry, don't you have anything to say to Jasmine?"

Harry's mind quickly thought about what he should say, about what he could say. "I can't decide for you, Jasmine, just what the right thing to do would be. But I want to make a difference. I need to try and change things so that when your mum and I got together all those years ago that we wouldn't have to spend years apart, with altered memories. I would much rather ave spent the last twenty years as a family instead of hunting down every last Death Eater and their every last relative. I don't know what will happen to you or anyone if I go back and change the past. But it's all I can think of to do now. It's what I need to do so I can be at peace."

As Harry finished his own short monologue he stood up and walked away as he was too emotionally unprepared for whatever Jasmine's response would be.

Alone in the dining room together, Jasmine looked up at her mother. Silently they looked at each other and then Jasmine spoke. "I can't do it mum, I can't go back in time with you, with him. None of us know what would happen. What if you change things and I am never born? Then what happens to me? What if things change you and Harry never get together? I can't deal with those worries. All I can do is stay here and make the best of things without you. Besides, someone has to be able to explain why the head of the Department of Mysteries and the Lord Protector suddenly vanish off the face of the earth."

Daphne sighed and then laughed slightly. "Honey, you know you are welcome to come with us. We will also make sure that if we aren't able to return, that here in this reality, you will be able to have anything you want or need. You are the last Potter. You are the last Greengrass. Everything that I have and that your father has will be, or is yours. If you stay behind, remember to speak to Steelclaw at Gringotts if you ever need anything."

* * *

2 weeks later

Jasmine Greengrass had been confronted by a reporter for the Daily Prophet as she was leaving Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley.

"Yes, it is true, my father is the Lord Protector. Lord Potter, and my mother, Lady Greengrass have left Britain. They have decided to take a long trip together. I think they may be heading to Australia, or maybe even the Caribbean. No, I have no idea when they will be coming back. No, I have nothing more to say on this subject."

The reporter was not able to get any further questions answered as Jasmine Greengrass-Potter, who had legally had her name changed earlier that day, apparated away from the middle of Diagon Alley despite the wards that had been in place for so many years to prevent just what she did.

* * *

1972, on a tropical island

Sitting on a veranda of a spacious villa, overlooking a valley with palm trees and banana plantations below them, and a rich deep blue sea in the distance, a man and woman were enjoying freshly squeezed grapefruit juice as they relaxed in the sun.

"Who knew that fresh grapefruit from right off of the trees could taste so good?" asked Daphne.

Harry smile back at the love of his life. "I think we will be quite happy here. It is a great location. This island has almost no one who is magical. The climate is wonderful. We are currently in a British Colony, but soon this island will be an independent country. We'll be sure to have the wards up before the cyclone hits in 79. It's kind of amazing when we already know some of the future. It will also be a help having moved the time travel device from the department of mysteries here to the island."

"Well, now that we're back in the 1970's, you can't just enjoy the view," commented Daphne.

Harry stared at Daphne as he interjected, "But what a view I get to enjoy."

"Stop it," she said with a laugh as she hit him on the arm. "But seriously, and no comments about your godfather, we need to start tracking down the criminals in Australia to establish your reputation as a bounty hunter."

"Of course, dear," answered Harry with a smile.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Dark Hunter in Australia

_1972, on a tropical island_

_Sitting on a veranda of a spacious villa, overlooking a valley with palm trees and banana plantations below them, and a rich deep blue sea in the distance, a man and woman were enjoying freshly squeezed grapefruit juice as they relaxed in the sun._

_"Who knew that fresh grapefruit from right off of the trees could taste so good?" asked Daphne._

_Harry smile back at the love of his life. "I think we will be quite happy here. It is a great location. This island has almost no one who is magical. The climate is wonderful. We are currently in a British Colony, but soon this island will be an independent country. We'll be sure to have the wards up before the cyclone hits in 79. It's kind of amazing when we already know some of the future. It will also be a help having moved the time travel device from the department of mysteries here to the island."_

_"Well, now that we're back in the 1970's, you can't just enjoy the view," commented Daphne._

_Harry stared at Daphne as he interjected, "But what a view I get to enjoy."_

_"Stop it," she said with a laugh as she hit him on the arm. "But seriously, and no comments about your godfather, we need to start tracking down the criminals in Australia to establish your reputation as a bounty hunter."_

_"Of course, dear," answered Harry with a smile._

* * *

Melbourne, Australia

The cold rain was making the dark night more than miserable. The dim light of the bar was only made more oppressive than normal, and the smell of old tobacco hung in the air. A man in a dark grey duster walked into the bar and nodded to the bartender who nodded back and poured the man a shot of whiskey. He stroked his dark goatee with one hand before taking the drink, then he downed it in one quick gulp. He turned and started to head towards a table in the back of the bar as he bumped into another man, who was wearing a dark and dingy robe. The man who was jostled shoved the first man away from him as he growled at him.

"Watch yourself, mate," he sneered.

"All right, mate, I'll be more careful," replied the man with the goatee.

"You'll be dead, is what you'll be," growled the offended man. He snapped his wrist and suddenly he had a long dark stick in his hand and was pointing it at the other man's chest.

"You plan to poke me with a stick?" questioned the man with the goatee, giving an uncomfortable laugh.

"This stick is your death, mate, if you don't be more careful," added the man holding the stick. "This is a wand, It's magic. And people like you can and will end up dead without your being able to do anything about it." Noticing that the man with the goatee appeared to be stepping away cautiously he let out a roar of laughter.

"You can't run away from me, mate, if I plans to kill you, I'll bloody damn well do it without so much as a by your leave."

The man with the goatee tripped and ended up falling backwards into a chair.

The man holding the stick towered over him. "I've been hanging out here for quite a long time, and there ain't nobody who comes or goes that I don't know. Then you, stranger, show up a few days ago, and come in every night and drink one whiskey. So it gets me to wondering, just who are you."

Sitting in the chair and looking up into the dark and menacing eyes of the man in front of him, he stutters out a reply, "Just new to the area, and I like a good whiskey. Can't afford to have too many or the old lady will tan my arse."

The man with the stick laughed again. "You seem to be little too whipped to be coming around here. Maybe I ought to have you take me back to your old lady so I can teach her some manners and show her how real man can take care of Sheila."

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea," came the stammered reply.

There was a loud guffaw from the man holding the stick as he towered over the other man. "And just why would that be such a bad idea?"

"Well," began the man in the chair, "I just got this new job, and I promised the little lady that I wouldn't be out too late tonight."

"And just what sort of new job would this be?" asked the man as he leered at him.

"I thought I'd try my hand at being a bounty hunter," was the understated reply.

Before the other man could react, the man in the chair was on his feet and his eyes were flashing green. With a wave of his hand the stick flew out of the other man's grasp and then with another wave of his hand some glowing metal manacles appeared and the man who had been holding the stick screamed in shock and anger.

"Those are magic suppressing manacles," stated the man with the goatee. "You can try and break free all you want, but stronger wizards than you haven't been able to break them yet, so I doubt you'll have much success."

He then grabbed the infuriated man who was still screaming as if he was in pain and pulled him along by the collar on his robe. "The more you struggle against these manacles, the more the pain will increase, I thought you might like to know."

Several of the other patrons in the bar had now stood up and were holding their wands and pointing them at the two men. This did not go unnoticed by the bounty hunter. With a quick wave of his free hand, all of the wands were soon flying across the room to land with a clatter in the corner by the bar.

"Now that wouldn't really be fair if you all decided to gang up on me now, would it," commented the bounty hunter. "So, it seems it is best for me and Mr. Smythe to depart."

One of the men who had just lost his wand called out to him. "And just who do you think you are?"

"I think I am a bounty hunter," he replied dryly. "However, you can call me 'Django'."

With that he apparated away with his captive in tow.

The one who had called out to Django then turned to the bartender, "I thought you said you had anti-apparation wards all around this place."

The bartender quickly waved his wand and muttered quietly then he answered the accusatory stares, "And they all seem to be in place still. I have no idea how that Django did what he did."

* * *

Harry and Daphne were sitting at a small table at their favourite restaurant. They could hear the sounds of the nearby waterfall in the background as they slowly ate the delicate meal of flying fish that was served to them.

"So, you were saying you have been able to review the Australian Oracle's accounts of the capture of William Smythe," commented Harry who had picked up their conversation after being sure that the privacy wards were in place.

"Yes, and the Australian Ministry is beside itself trying to answer the questions from the press about how some unknown bounty hunter just showed up with there number one fugitive. Not that the people are complaining as he was a thief and a murderer. The paper did suggest that the Australian Auror Corps may have had a planned raid to capture him," added Daphne.

Harry took a sip of the juice in front of him, "Which they did," he added with a laugh, "as it was the history of their raid which would have taken place the next day that helped us plan the capture. Any more information about this mysterious bounty hunter?"

"The only published picture of you has your face all in shadow," replied Daphne. "The Ministry and the paper have no idea why they couldn't get a better picture of Django."

"Your knowledge of glamours from your work in the Department of Mysteries sure has come in handy," commented Harry with a huge grin. "Any evidence of a change in the time-line since this little adventure occurred?"

Daphne shook her head slightly, "Not from what I can tell from reviewing other news sources since that date. Although if there were subtle changes they may not show up in the first few years after the event," she added thoughtfully.

"So, here we are, in 1972, having successfully apprehended a wanted criminal in 1970 in Australia," said Harry as he raised his glass in a toast. "To our past and future success!"

* * *

1973, Sydney Australia

The dark figure moved through the shadows in the area known as Blood Lane, a part of magical Sydney that made Knockturn Alley in London seem like a walk in the park. Harry, or Django as he went by as a bounty hunter in the past, was heading towards a certain tavern. His target was a wizard whose reputation was not as dangerous as Mr. Smythe who had apprehended just last week in Harry's time, or six months previous to the day he found himself here in Sydney. Things had gone remarkably well with the apprehension of Mr. Smythe, but Harry had learned too often from his experience in tracking down the Death Eaters that there was never a situation where he should feel over confident. Sometimes fate liked to play games with people, and too often it seemed that Harry was Fate's favourite punching bag. Daphne had reviewed this scenario with him several times before Harry travelled back in time and then to Australia.

Reginald Dwight was not a particularly imposing man when people first encountered him. He did have a predilection for preying on unsuspecting muggle women. The Australian Auror Corps were trying to track him down, but even they were not about to venture into Blood Lane. They had a plan to capture him within the week as they were expecting him to make another attack in the muggle part of Sydney. Harry figured he would just walk in and grab Mr. Dwight and be done with it.

The Rat's Nest was perhaps a too appropriate name for a tavern in Blood Lane and Harry shook his head in disgust at the filth that covered the front of the establishment. The doors and windows were also quite greasy and dirty. Harry pushed his way through the crowd and into the bar. There was a fairly busy crowd as all the tables were full and the bar had no open stools. As Harry made his way to speak with the bartender a hush fell over the room. Harry silently cursed his luck. He could overhear the murmurings as people started questioning who was this stranger and could he be Django who they had read about in the Australian Oracle.

Harry made his way to bar and ignored the stares from everyone. The bartender looked at him in silence as he wiped off a glass with a rag that had seen better days. As the bartender did not ask him if he wanted anything Harry made his request as a simple statement. "Fire Whiskey. Make it a double."

The bartender never took his eyes off of Harry as he put down the beer glass in his hand and reached for a couple of shot glasses. He then grabbed a bottle of fire whiskey and filled the two glasses he had placed in front of Harry. Harry gave a slight nod at the bartender to acknowledge the skill he had to do all of that without looking at the bottle or the glasses.

"Thank you kindly, my good man," was Harry's comment to the bartender as he reached for the first glass. He silently and wandlessly cast a detection charm to make sure there were no poisons or potions added to his drinks before he gulped the first one down.

"Are you the one they call Django?" asked the bartender. His whispered question seemed to echo throughout the tavern as everyone continued to stare the dark robed stranger.

Harry slowly stroked his goatee with his left hand as he replied, "I have been called that at times."

"Well then," continued the bartender, "you are not welcome here. Just finish your drink and be on your way. That way no one gets hurt."

Harry nodded at the man as he responded to him slowly. "My every intention is that no one here gets hurt."

Harry picked up the remaining shot of fire whiskey and turned to face the rest of the room, and noted that nearly every eye was focused on him. Several wizards and a few witches were slowly reaching for their concealed wands. Harry downed the second glass of fire whiskey without taking his eyes off of the crowd.

He then spoke to everyone. "It seems that I am not wanted here. I'm not sure that many of you could say that, that you're not wanted that is. But I did not come here to fight or to cause any trouble."

Harry reached behind him and placed the empty shot glass on the bar and then slowly raised his hands in front of him.

"You can see that I am unarmed, so if you all don't mind, I will kindly see myself out." Harry then started walking towards the front door which was quickly blocked by several large and menacing wizards all with wands drawn.

A witch with a revealing bodice and loose robes ran past him and whispered to him her floo address as she winked and then ran towards the back. Harry smirked at the men in front of him. "Maybe I should just leave with her," he joked out loud. Harry glanced over his shoulder towards where the witch had run off and slowly started walking sideways in the same direction.

The three wizards, who reminded him of Crabbe and Goyle with a bastard cousin, started moving towards him.

"Maybe you're not leaving here at all, Django," threatened the largest of the three who was standing in the middle. "Maybe we'll just make an example of you."

Harry tripped over a chair at one of the tables. He fell to his side and grabbed onto the back of a man in one of the chairs at the table. As the two of them were falling together, Harry apparated them both out of the tavern. Landing in the middle of what appeared to be a desert, the unfortunate man had the wind knocked out of him as Harry landed on top of him.

"Get off of me," growled the smaller man. Harry pushed himself up and then offered a hand to help the other man stand up.

"Sorry about landing on you, sir," commented Harry.

"You don't know how sorry you will be," snarled the man as he took Harry's proffered hand.

As Harry helped him stand up he waved his hands and magic suppressing manacles immediately appeared on the other man's wrists.

"Well, Mr. Dwight, I do believe the one who will be sorry is you, as I am about to hand you over to the Auror Corps."

Mr. Dwight's jaw dropped as he realised the whole tripping over the chair was merely a ruse to appear to randomly pick him as a way to break his fall. "You'll never get away with this, Django!" he screamed.

"The one who is not getting away it seems is you, Reginald," commented Harry with a grin. Then they apparated again and this time they arrived in front of the Auror Corps office. Several Aurors were waiting as they had received an anonymous message that Django would be bringing them another one of their most wanted criminals.

The senior Auror looked at Harry and his captive. "So, Mr. Reginald Dwight, it seems that Django here has saved us the trouble of tracking you down."

Reginald Dwight tried to spit at Harry as he had no other means to attack him, but the spittle seemed to bounce off an invisible shield and hit himself in his own face. The other Aurors just laughed at the sight.

"Well, Django, I am Senior Auror Dundee and it seems like we owe you once again," commented the man who had spoken first when Harry arrived.

"Obviously you did receive my message, and I did arrive at the predetermined time and place to drop of this individual," smiled Harry. "Now, will you be keeping your part of the bargain?"

"I will see to it that the ministry sends the previously stated bounty the numbered account you have at Gringotts." The Senior Auror paused as Harry only responded with a silent nod of approval. He then questioned the bounty hunter in front of him. "Are you from around these parts? How come we never heard of you before six months ago?"

Harry just quietly smirked in reply. "Oh, I've been around," was all he added.

Harry then turned to walk away and one of the other Aurors finally spoke up. "Some of the guys are saying you're just as much a criminal as these guys you turn in, that you're doing this out of spite."

Another Auror spoke up. "The word on the street is that you're the most powerful wizard since Merlin."

Harry stopped and turned and faced the now speechless Aurors. "I am not, and have never been a criminal, not counting a minor disagreement I once had with the goblins when I was young. And I have no idea how powerful I am compared to other wizards. I just have a job to do, and currently that involves bringing in those who are being hunted down by the Aurors."

Without another word, he turned to walk away, his dark robes billowing behind him. Harry thought of all the times that Snape had done that and he laughed to himself at how simple it was to make his robes respond in such an impressive and intimidating manner. Then he apparated away from the Australian DMLE offices.

One of the Aurors vocalized his surprise, "How can he do that? We can't even apparate from this area!"

* * *

The Island Villa

"So it did go down much as you expected," commented Harry

Accepting the complement, Daphne greeted Harry with a kiss. "Of course it did love."

"Well there was one unexpected part of the mission," added Harry.

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, was that? I thought we were quite thorough in our planning. We figured they would recognize you despite the photos not showing your face. The fact that they did and were ready to try and ambush you indicates that just that first fugitive you brought in for the bounty was enough to get the whole criminal world set on edge."

"Oh it was quite clear they knew who I was, and it was also quite clear that they were not surprised that I showed up there," replied Harry. "But the young witch who whispered her floo address in my ear was not expected."

"You are quite dashing in your grey robes, my dear," added Daphne. "But don't fool yourself into thinking she really wanted you to visit, it was probably just another ambush being set up for them to try and catch you."

Harry's mood seemed to deflate slightly, then he continued with a sigh, "But one can always hope it was meant to be more than that."

Daphne glared at Harry at his comments. "Do you want the sofa? For the rest of your life? And a first hand experience of just why I had the nickname Ice Queen back in school?"

Harry leaned in and kissed Daphne on her forehead. "One, I have no desire to go chasing after any other woman now that I have you back again. No one can compare to you, my love. Two, I am not stupid. I would never risk getting on your bad side like that."

"And don't you forget it," teased Daphne in response. Taking his hand she pulled him towards the door to the villa. "Now, what do you say to a midnight swim?"

Harry raised an eyebrow in reply, "In the ocean among the reefs or under Trafalgar Falls?"

"The falls," stated Daphne, "they should look lovely tonight with the full moon out."

* * *

1977, Island Villa

Harry and Daphne were reviewing the success of their personal mission so far.

Harry, or Django, had apprehended four magical criminals in Australia, and had already been labelled the Dark Hunter by the Australian Oracle. Word of his ability to show up in the middle of even the most secure and heavily warded areas, particularly within the magical criminal world, was spreading.

Some had wondered if he was truly a ghost that was able to take physical form. Government law enforcement agencies were taking notice with the ease with which this Django was able to apparate in and out of their own secure locations.

The Pevensie vault at Gringotts was growing. They were already quite rich based on the gold and platinum bars that were obtained from emptying the vaults of the Death Eater families that Harry had eliminated in the future, or their past. Added to that was the reward money that Django had been receiving for the several criminals he had received.

Their selection of a remote Caribbean Island away from the leading magical governments had been quite useful as well. They had been on the island for several years now and had been accepted as eccentric but friendly neighbours. When they were not busy planning the next criminal to apprehend so as to grow Django's reputation as the Dark Hunter, they were enjoying the sites around the island. The small villages were all unique and filled with friendly people. Harry and Daphne had even visited with the last remaining members of the Carib tribe. He smiled knowing that in a little over 20 years they would all get parts in a Johnny Depp movie. They would occasionally dine at small restaurants in the capital city, or town as the locals referred to it. Their identification was that of Harry and Daphne Pevensie, British citizens, residents of the commonwealth island that was part of the British empire. The two were well aware of the changing political climate that would soon lead to the island becoming an independent country, but that was still a year away.

While they were enjoying their afternoon tea at their villa, overlooking the surrounding rainforests, Daphne brought up the need to establish Django in the United States. "We do have several marks identified as fugitives you can apprehend shortly before they are captured by the American Aurors."

Harry corrected her, "The Magical branch of their FBI, they don't call them Aurors in America. That is too connected to the old ways that the Americans feel are too outdated."

Daphne scoffed, "If the American Magical Government isn't more careful, they will be in violation of the statutes of secrecy with the entire ICW. That won't help anything."

Harry was a little surprised by her comments. "Well, by the time we first travelled back in time, the Americans had not broken the Statute of Secrecy even once. It was Tom Riddle and all of the attacks on muggles by the Death Eaters that came the closest to doing that."

"Oh, and your actions as the Lord Protector didn't come close to violating the Statute of Secrecy?" she asked with mirth in her voice. "Destroying muggle buildings that are world famous in order to catch one Death Eater on the run is not exactly being secret."

"Muggle terrorists have destroyed many internationally known landmarks," explained Harry.

"Making the Leaning Tower of Pisa collapse to catch the Death Eater hiding in it was a little over the top, and it could not have been explained as a terrorist attack," argued Daphne.

"Well, just because no one else was hurt," commented Harry. "Travers broke his arm in the fall, so he was unable to cast any spells and harm any muggles. I thought it was a great plan."

"But then the tower was fixed almost immediately after thousands had witnessed its collapse!" argued Daphne. "How could the European Magical Commonwealth explain that away? Surely not as a terrorist attack!"

"Special effects for an upcoming muggle movie," offered Harry meekly.

"And a horrific mess with the EMC calling out hundreds of Obliviation crews for containment.

"I still think they could have explained it all much more simply with a report of LSD getting into the public water supply in combination with planned special effects for a Hollywood movie," Harry said defensively. "But the real issue is that I captured Travers. And nobody, other than Travers, got hurt. And Italy has their leaning tower back."

"The Italian government is still trying to figure out how the tower was leaning a little less the day after the incident than it was the week before when they last made the official measurements," added Daphne, still expressing her frustration with Harry.

"The ECM should have thanked me for that, as I helped forestall the inevitable collapse of the tower in Pisa. I think it ended up as a win-win situation for everyone," concluded Harry.

Daphne sighed in frustration. "Just because you didn't have much of a childhood doesn't mean you don't have to grow up as an adult," she chided.

After an awkward moment of silence she then continued, "We still need to finish the plans for apprehending these several magical fugitives in the states."

"Remind me again just where will we find these people," stated Harry.

"Well, the two men will be found in Texas and Pennsylvania," replied Daphne, "but the trickiest one will probably be the woman they are hunting down somewhere in California or Nevada."

"What information do we have from the FBI Magical Divisions reports?" asked Harry.

"Just the basics, what they are wanted for, and the historical documents about when they were finally captured." Daphne then opened one of the folders in front of her. "Roger 'Mad-dog' Tannin was arrested by the Magical FBI in August 1982, outside of Wichita Falls. He was wanted for destroying several muggle homes and the deaths of dozens of muggles who lived in trailer parks. He was using a complex spell that caused damage that appeared to be a tornado had touched down in the area. Apparently he would destroy these villages after attacking and raping the women. The magical FBI finally became involved after several of the women from one of these unusual tornadoes were not found until days later, many miles from where they used to live."

"What's so unusual about that?" asked Harry.

"The women were not killed by the storm, for starters. The Avada Kedavra was used on them," added Daphne with a chill in her voice.

"But why was the Magical FBI even called in on these cases? Muggles often explain death by killing curse as simple sudden cardiac arrest." Harry puzzled over the information.

Daphne then continued with the case histories of the women and the storms. "The weather service did not have any storms in the areas of the several attacks that occurred that could account for the tornadoes. The small towns that were attacked were quite remote so it was just assumed that a freak storm took place. Someone in the FBI got wind of these freak storms and decided to investigate, initially claiming that the attacks might be based on aliens or some such paranormal activity. That eventually got the attention of the Magical FBI who discovered what was going on. They also had a long history of dealing with Mr. Tannin who has a well documented predilection for being less than kind to women, whether they be muggles or witches."

"Seems like just the sort of guy we want to bring to justice," commented Harry. "It's just a shame that we have to wait until just before he gets caught to grab him and present him to the Magical FBI. It would be nice to be able to stop him before he attacks anyone else."

Daphne sighed, "But we can't take the chance of changing the time-line too much. I know it's frustrating, but we need to be careful with how much we do."

Harry kissed her softly and then added, "Of course, you're right dear. I guess we need to figure out where we need to be to find him the day before the Magical FBI finally catches up with him. So who's the next one we need to catch?"

"That would be Marvin Boggs. He has a history of being a little unbalanced at best. He used to work for the magical FBI and then he went on a killing spree, mostly aimed at taking out former colleagues in the Magical FBI. He was holed up in the swamps of Louisiana, but he was finally caught when he was trying to fit in the midst of the Amish community in central Pennsylvania," she concluded.

"That one doesn't sound so hard to catch," surmised Harry.

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Daphne as she shook her head. "The report indicates he is more than just a little paranoid. Not sure how easy he will be to catch and he can be quite dangerous."

Harry smiled at that comment. "And I'm not dangerous?" he asked rhetorically.

Daphne ignored Harry's question. "He was finally captured in May of 1985, so that hopefully would put enough time in between apprehending Tannin and going after Boggs that he wouldn't be worried you would be after him."

"And why would he even think I was going after him?" asked Harry.

"He's smart. He seems to still have access to the magical FBI information network. And he is more than a little paranoid. He probably would be thinking you're coming after him as soon as he hears that you have caught Tannin. Yes, he IS that paranoid." Daphne shook her head in frustration. "You don't need to make any of this any more difficult you know."

"And how am I making any of this more difficult?"

"Because, Mr. Pevensie," replied Daphne, "you are too over confident in your own abilities and skills that you think you will always come out ahead, no matter who you are facing, and that just might get you killed one day. Or worse."

"What could be worse than getting killed?" wondered Harry.

"Nearly getting killed and getting me worried," stated Daphne with a firmness in her tone that startled Harry. "Because if you go and do something really stupid and mess this whole thing up I'll be coming after you and you might wish you had been killed."

Harry leaned back away from her. "Whoa, a little over reaction there much?"

"No," asserted Daphne. "I lost you once for twenty years, even if I didn't realize it, so I am not about to let you go and mess up everything between us ever again."

"Point taken," offered Harry, feeling a little bit put off. "But there are risks in what we are doing."

"Which is precisely why we need to plan this all out so well in advance," chided Daphne.

"And the third person?" asked Harry tentatively.

"She goes by the name of Chloë. Usually. She has also used the names Athena and Theresa.. She has been more of a black widow type, getting close to rich men, be they wizards or muggles, and once she gets them to marry her, and she is sure she will inherit their riches, she kills them off," finished Daphne.

Harry furrowed his brow, "That's all she has done?"

"That's all?" came the sarcastic reply from Daphne. "Isn't that enough?"

"But to get her to the top of the Magical FBI most wanted," explained Harry, "I figured she would have had to off more than a couple of old men."

"She has, or will have killed at least 8 husbands by 1985," Daphne added with a matter of fact tone. "But it's not just the number of men, the muggles died in spectacular accidents that were eventually explained after a magical investigation. The wizards are had what would be described as unique and horrible deaths."

Harry gave a concerned look at his wife. "But if they know so much about her, why hasn't she been apprehended?"

"Apparently she makes Bellatrix Lestrange seem stable and kind," dead panned Daphne.

"Well, it will still be a little while before we deal with that one," concluded Harry.

* * *

**AN: Another chapter done - and a little longer than the last few. Next stop - America - then on to England in the 1990s - ie, when Harry was in school.**


End file.
